Lilies and Pupusas
by inhaleo0oexhale
Summary: AU:Muggle/Modern/Political/American...Lily did not realize that Severus was a far-right activist. Lily, whose adopted parents were 1st generation immigrants from Honduras, falls for James Potter...the same Potters who created the grassroots refugee nonprofit, The Potter Foundation. Problems were bound to arise.
1. Lily:0 Cat:1

Author's Note:

Firstly, I'm not JKR which is the biggest disclaimer. It is purely a fan-made dabbling in a great world. I know the fanfic community is not as active as it once was but I hope those who remain here enjoy my work and I can add to the longevity of the fandom with this tiny contribution. I would love any reviews or PMs. I would greatly appreciate no flames.

That being said, I would like to forewarn you regarding the contents of this story. They contain divisive political viewpoints and it is a muggle AU. This story takes place in modern-day America, with the plot warped to fit the current climate surrounding topics like racism, immigration, and sexuality. Please do not flame me. At any point, if this story feels too liberal, feel free to exit. I am not holding you hostage and forcing you to swallow my opinions.

Lastly, I give huge credit to Cgner, a fellow author whom has given me permission to use Algernon, the greatest cat in the world. His/her story "Textbook, Time Scarves, and Tea" was the inspiration that led me back into writing a story. I've never written a Jily pairing, but I hope I can do it well. I've got no Beta, so please excuse any minor errors. Also, this is intended to be a long multichapter, but definitely not slow-burn, fanfic.

Cheers!

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The streets were drowned in brown-tinged, brackish water which pooled at the steep dip in-front of the doorway to her apartment. Lily ducked under the overhead canopy which smelled musky from age. Where were her keys? She patted her pockets and dug through the clutter in her purse. An abyss, filled with old candy wrappers, pens, and loose ibuprofen from a bottle that somehow uncapped itself. With a huff, she slung her backpack over her arm, and balanced it precariously on one knee. Her bracelet snagged on the wire bindings of her 5-subject notebook.

"Shit," she muttered, "where are my damn keys? I swear, this day cannot get any worse." A mechanical pencil jabbed her hand. Well, she shouldn't have tempted fate. It could get worse, she thought as she inspected the freshly bleeding cut on her hand. It was small, like a pinprick. She paid it no mind. Her glasses were falling down her face, so she pushed it up with her shoulder, still balancing her purse and backpack awkwardly. The rain pelted down around her, misting her clothing and pasting already frizzy red hair to her face. She could barely see, her glasses too splattered with droplets and fogged from her harsh breathing against the cold air. She swore loudly before mashing her frozen fingers against the intercom buttons above the keyhole.

"Yello'?" came the cheery, very male voice. She glared at the dusty grates on the intercom speaker. How dare he be so happy on a day so miserable? She zipped her bags and stuffed it back the right way round.

"…Yessss?" he inquired in a sing-song voice. Lily huffed grumpily, knowing her mortal enemy was eying her up from his security camera.

"Potter." She hissed, waspishly wiping her face from sopping wet strands that got in her mouth.

"Lovely day isn't it?" His voice was garbled slightly from the dated intercom mechanics. A loud booming thunderclap that made her visibly flinch.

"Please. I forgot my keys." She licked her wet lips, feeling both fatigued and frustrated that she had to swallow her pride. "I'm cold." She sneezed loudly, spraying saliva against the intercom and buttons. Her left hand, the uninjured hand, wiped her nose before quickly trying to clean the camera. To her pure embarrassment, it smeared her germs and mucus. Her ears were hot against the biting frost of the November winter, and she was sure her blush made her look like a rabid tomato. A loud buzzer went off and she quickly scrambled to catch the door while it hummed, letting her know that he had taken mercy on her.

She tripped on the doorway, unable to see where the sidewalk met the elevated steps from how flooded the area was. She heard a muffled laugh coming from the intercom as she raced into the lobby. Stupid Potter enjoying her misfortune. Stupid melodious laugh, no wonder the devil was once an angel.

Lily plodded through the lobby, making squelching noises as she passed Potter's door, as loud as possible to hopefully shame him. He could have taken pity sooner, that arrogant sod. She sneezed again, as she sat down on her welcome mat. She'd have to wait until Severus got off work in a couple hours. Maybe she could dry off by then and start one of her readings for class, since she was close enough to pick up her Wifi signal. It was rather weak, she thought as she waved her phone in the air. Her fingers were so cold and moist that she couldn't place the passcode on the phone screen. What a day. Maybe she could curl up and take a nap. She let her head fall backwards onto the door with a loud thump, feeling like crying. Her throat was itching badly causing her to cough a loud, terrible sound.

"Gods, are you that pathetic? Making all this noise for attention?" Potter was leaning on his doorway, looking exquisitely tall and lanky today. Her glasses were smudged so she took them off to squint up at him. She could make out his dark, messy hair and some grey sweatpants, and some sort of green shirt with a blurry logo. She looked away, not particularly enjoying the position of being eye-to-eye with his crotch. He had very long toes. Huh, she thought, having never seen him barefooted before. He could probably play the flute with those finger-toes.

"Well, come on then. I'm not letting you lay around in the hallway like a vagabond." He walked over to her, crossing the narrow hall with only two long strides. Lily felt her nose itch and quickly lifted the collar of her shirt to sneeze away from him. She felt the spittle hit her chest and internally cringed, but her eyes were too focused on warily watching Potter. He held out his hand for her, looking down with a lopsided grin. She hated his beady little eyes, and those stupid wire-framed glasses that made him look like a mad scientist with that crazy hair. She shook her head and pointedly ignored his hand, glumly picking at her limp, moist laces. Lily heard him sigh deeply as he bent down to her level. She stared into his hazel, not necessarily beady or little, eyes which were framed by the darkest, prettiest eyelashes. She would never admit it, but she appreciated him invading her personal bubble because it meant she could see him clearly without her glasses.

"Hey, come dry off. You'll get sick like that." He was untying the shoelaces on her right foot now, after delicately untangling her clammy fingers from them.

"I'm already sick. Go away," Lily muttered, wiping her nose in the crook of her arm. He slid her sneaker off and tipped it upside down and watched a stream of water trickle out. He made a "tsk" noise with the back of his throat, a noise he made whenever he found her particularly annoying or stubborn. He peeled her patterned Garfield sock off the foot, leaving her toes painfully cold and exposed. His long fingers wrung the sock out, before repeating the same procedure for the other foot. She wiggled her toes, trying to bring feeling back to them. They were pale, turning a tinge blue, like the color of her periwinkle nail polish.

His hands radiated heat as he pressed his palms directly up against her foot bottoms. She hissed at the sudden shift in temperature and partly from pleasure, but he didn't need to know that, thank you very much. God, such large hands. His fingertips were so long they passed the tips of her toes. She curled her toes closer into his warm hands, enjoying the searing heat.

"You have really tiny feet," he murmured, in a voice that sounded sort of in awe. What a weird dude. Lily reached up to wring out her ponytail, adding to the puddle he created from her shoes. She let out a hollow cough, before tiredly picking up her glasses from the floor. Her damp sock did a terrible job cleaning the lenses, but she put them on regardless and stared at him blankly.

"It's cold out here," Potter grumbled looking down the empty hall. Wow, thanks captain obvious, Lily thought dully. Potter stood back up and scratched his chin to comically mime his pondering skills before suddenly lunging at her. Lily cried out angrily as he heaved her up by her armpits and dragged her flailing body across the thin hallway into his apartment.

He threw her on his couch. "You-you, I can't believe you fucking idiot, manhandling me and the nerve-" She had stopped fighting him once she was in his apartment because she realized he wasn't trying to molest her, and honestly, this was the first time she'd seen the inside and curiosity was stronger than her burning indignation.

"Oi, stay put. I'm gonna grab your junk." He strode to the door, again surprising her with how long his legs were. Like a spider. She was slightly impressed that he could lift her like a sack of potatoes, but also miffed, at his obvious disregard for personal boundaries. Lily laid flat on his couch, hoping to spitefully soak it with as much moisture as possible. Hopefully it'd smell like wet dog, which he very much deserved.

She looked around, taking in his large plasma screen mounted on the wall opposite to her. There was a deep cherry-stained wood coffee table with two wireless PlayStation controllers sitting atop some National Geographic magazines and a barely-eaten croissant was nestled in a wad of napkins next to a hand-empty cup of coffee. Lily felt self-conscious, wondering if she had interrupted Potter's morning, since she knew he never woke prior to noon. She didn't get a chance to look around more because Potter had already come waltzing in with a smug look on his face, with her purse and backpack dangling precariously on his shoulder.

"I left your shoes to dry. Hopefully Snivellus will trip on them and break his incredibly large schnoz." He grinned that same naughty grin that made her want to simultaneously slap him and jump his bones. "I never thought I'd see you here, like this…." He trailed off and eyed her suggestively with an expressive brow wiggle. She didn't bother replying, instead she leaned further into the soft cushions, hoping they would swallow her whole. She wondered what 'like this' even meant. She was sure that she had the whole en vogue, drowned sewer rat sort of visage. And the flu made her nose look like Rudolph.

She watched Potter sit on the coffee table directly across from her, watching her like she was an escaped zoo animal. He let his eyes wander down to her damp clothing, probably enjoying the way it clung to her. Abruptly, he got up and left the room. Lily craned her neck as her eyes followed him, lingering on the way the sweatpants hung low on his backside.

She took the time to analyze her surroundings better. She took in the large framed photos of an elderly couple hugging, artistic posters of motorbikes, a large monochromatic close-up of a flower of some sort, and a group shot of Potter's graduation with his three friends also in full NYU regalia. There were floating shelves with weird trinkets like a fake plant, a few dusty geography books, vintage toy cars, and an oversized metal globe. It was definitely a man's apartment. To her right, was the room Potter disappeared to. Given her own apartment's layout, that must be the main bedroom and the doorway beside it would be the spare bedroom, which was probably his brother, Sirius' room. That's the one Severus had given Lily, when he offered for them to be roommates to survive the high cost of living in Manhattan. To her left, was the entryway to the kitchen area. Lily's own kitchen was a dirty old slate color, with dingy second-hand appliances they purchased from Craigslist and Facebook. Potter's kitchen reeked wealth with its polished black marble countertops and glossy metal furnishings. She felt a wave of envy hit her and quickly looked elsewhere. Wow, what she would have give to have a beautiful home like this. It was humble though, with the fridge covered in pictures of Potter's friends and family, with alphabet magnets haphazardly spelling the word 'bUttSnAcK". She smiled to herself. Emphasis on snack, she thought as her eyes lingered on the largest picture stuck to the fridge, of Potter sitting on Sirius' shoulders. Both boys were shirtless in a vibrant blue pool, playing chicken probably, and they looked to be in their late-teens. Potter had bright yellow arm floaties on, flailing his arms in the air and causing his hands to be captured in the photo as a colorless blur. Lily felt a bubble of giddiness in her chest, as his wide smile seemed specifically for her. She bit her lip nervously, feeling like she was intruding on his memories.

Potter's home was practical. The curtains were a dark linen to keep light out, the shelves were minimally cluttered, and his kitchen spotless without gloating. Lily sat upright on his overly-comfortable couch to awkwardly toe at the fluffy brown carpet that sat under the coffee table. She turned back to peek at the delicious kitchen, hoping to crush her jealousy. They had turned the countertops into an eating space, using vinyl barstools that looked futuristic with their shiny chrome backs. She supposed he had great style, if he didn't pay someone to decorate it for him. Severus and her eating area was a salvaged table they found on the curb, with a broken leg propped up with Severus' old textbooks. They hid the chipped wood by throwing a thrifted Batman quilt over it as a makeshift table cloth. Honestly, neither of them were picky and it served its purpose. No shame in that, right?

But Lily felt a knot in her stomach, looking back at the large plasma screen mounted in-front of her. Rich, handsome, funny, what a catch. Her uneasiness returned, as the feeling of how incompatible they were became more tangible as she was bombarded with the personality and status his home radiated. She got up to leave, quietly tip-toeing to grab her stuff at the door. She knew the floors in this building creaked something awful, especially in the wintertime. She slowly went to unlock the door, hoping it wouldn't make the loud snapping noise hers would.

*CCLLLLLLKK*

Lily's entire body froze, but she continued to turn the heavy bolted lock, calling upon the gods to embue her with the stealth of a thousand ninjas.

"Where are you going?" She swiveled around, her bones protesting from exhaustion and misuse, to stare at him wide-eyed and as innocently as possible. Potter had a pile of clothes folded in his hands and was looking at her with furrowed brows.

"Hi….I was…just…..um….heading out?," she murmured out like a question. He frowned at her, running a free hand through his messy black hair. Lily licked her chapped lips and turned the doorknob, not worrying about noise since she'd already blown her cover. "Thanks for….warmth." A forceful sneeze left her before she could cover her face, causing her to whack the back of her head against the door. He visibly winced as he watched her crankily rub against her knotted ponytail to dull the throb. See, cute guys were always causing her misfortune, Lily groused as she turned back to try escaping.

He walked over to her, again in only a few strides and took her hand off the doorknob. It was hot like a radiator and she found herself pressing her hand into his as surreptitiously as possible. "Lily, it's only 2:30. I know that jerk doesn't come home from work 'til like…." His voice trailed away as he grew preoccupied with curling his fingers around hers, having no pretenses for the handholding now. Her left hand felt resentful of the right, for it was nestled in a hot heaven and leftie was clenching her soggy, frozen belongings. He was staring at her lips as she opened her mouth to talk. They were probably crusty or bleeding, from her constant gnawing.

"Six. Sometimes later…" Lily finished the sentence for him. He was so close to her, she could feel his body heat. So tall she had to look up to him, at least a whole head taller than her, and it made her toes want to secretly curl. He pushed the bundle of clothes between them, his fingers hesitant to let go of her own. She was sorely tempted to grab his hand back, when it did leave, but he reached up to push his own glasses up his nose. God, why does he get to look like a male model and be rich too? And now he was acting like he cared about her health.

Lily grumbled out a thank you, trying to be mature.

"You can get changed in my room," he motioned to the door she correctly guessed was his, "I'll throw your stuff in the dryer." She wanted to swoon if her cranky, sickly self could let her. Instead, she nodded at him and scampered into his bedroom, firmly shutting the door behind her. She licked her chapped lips, feeling her heart thrum with excitement. She'd been quietly pining for Potter for ages now, and this weird sexual tension thing was going to kill her.

She inhaled deeply, almost tasting his scent on the air. It was woodsy and cinnamon-tinted, and it reminded her of the Horchata her mama makes. Welcoming and warm, like his bedroom. The walls were a caramel brown, with the same masculine mocha wall shelves as outside. A cherry-stained chest of drawers was in the far corner next to a large standing mirror, which she found slightly vain for a man's room. A potted fern, probably fake, was near the window, sitting in a wicker basket pot.

He had a large abstract painting above his bed, the same bed which her eyes lingered on longest, lingered on last…like unwrapping the best present, leaving the biggest for last. The leather headboard made her heart stutter, as she imagined herself pinned to it. The pillows were not opulent but practical, as she had come to expect, and the comforter was black velvet.

She felt herself get goosebumps, which she blamed on the room being drafty. She quickly peeled her wet clothes off, feeling vulnerable and aroused as she stood in her nemesis' bedroom. Too bad he was a total asshole, she thought as she walked towards the large standing mirror. She took off her bra and underwear as well since they were also damp. She stood completely naked, her dusky pink nipples rock hard and aware. Her hands ran over the large dresser, feeling the cool polished wood glide under her fingertips. She breathed in his scent, feeling like a certified creep but also thoroughly stimulated. She looked over to his bed, envisioning how the velvet would kiss her skin as she writhed in the sheets. Lily bit her lip, feeling too awakened to feel ashamed. She leaned over and ran her fingertips on the comforter. His bundle of clothes were placed on the bed and she sat down. Gods, this is torture, she thought dizzily, with a deep gulp of air to invade her senses with his pheromones.

She laid back in a plop, feeling a slight bounce as her head ricocheted softly on the bed. Why did he own such comfortable furniture, she thought in a daze, running her arms along the velvet like she was swimming. It felt like she was being tickled and caressed at the same time, and though odd, she enjoyed it immensely. She felt something brush her leg, but dismissed it, thinking it was the sheets being ruffled due to her odd shimmying on the bed. Lily felt drunk from stimulus.

Where can I buy sheets like this? Can it come with a free bottle of Eau de Potter? She'd gladly drown in his scent if she could. She'd buy a whole month's rent worth of it, if they sold it. But then again, Mister High and Mighty would probably be too expensive for her pauper self. She huffed a sigh, going back to lazy backstrokes on his dark velvety bedspread. Her nipples were painfully pointed at the ceiling, she noted wryly. Something brushed against her leg again, aggressive and purposefully this time, and she bolted upright with a scream. A rat!

She scrambled backwards onto the bed, pulling her feet as far away from the ground as possible. Her chest heaving, she tried to catch her bearings. The bedroom door swung open and Potter stood brandishing a spatula like a madman.

"What?! What?!" he hollered, looking around madly, before doing a double-take and staring openmouthed at her naked body. Lily stared back, her violent panting causing her to have a coughing fit. He backed out the door, never taking his wide eyes off her. Never even blinking. The door shut with a deafening thud. The sound echoed in her skull, ominously, as she tried to grapple with calming the painful pounding of her heart ravaging her chest.

Lily's face was blood red by the time she comprehended what just happened. She wailed a quiet "ohmygod" with her head in her hands, forgetting the reason she had a near heart attack. She covered herself into a lumpy ball with his stupid velvet bedsheets, sitting eerily still. Eventually, she turned it into a makeshift dress when she grew enough courage to peer cautiously over the bed's edge.

Two large green eyes stared back at her. The most hideous, mushed-face, orange beast stared at her from the floor, carelessly licking its paw as if to mock her dramatics. Her worst moment caused by a overgrown furball.

She took a shuddering breath before pointing at the cat, "You. I hate you, cat."


	2. Souped Up

Hmm. Disclaimer of course is that I'm not JKR and just dipping my toes into her personal fountain of fair fortune. Let's enjoy some more Sick!Lily and her overreactive, daytime soap-opera self. Lily is 5'1" like I am in real life, just for reference.

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When Lily finished changing into Potter's clothes, she stood in-front of his large mirror trying to talk herself into being brave. She looked sickly, with her bloodshot eyes and pink-tipped nose a stark contrast against her pallid skin. She was hyperaware of the way her freckles stood out, making her look like some sort of leper. Her fiery red hair was loosely hanging by her ponytail, instead choosing to create a frizzy halo around her face. She frowned down at herself. His joggers he lent her were far too long, no matter how much she bunched up the remaining fabric around her ankles. Her glasses always made her feel like a shrewd librarian, and it definitely aided in completing the look of dowdy grandmother, given the limp way his shirt draped on her.

"If I take these pants off, he'll think I'm desperate." She talked to herself in an inaudible hiss. "I'm not throwing myself at him, like some sort of hussy. Sure, he got a…sneak peek, but still. I'm just sick. I'm still beautiful. Well, maybe after a hot shower and a few days of hibernation. I'm beautiful on the inside, at the very least, yeah." She continued to rant to herself, trying to piece together her shattered pride. Lily refused to leave the bedroom with her head hung low. She was sick of Potter having the upper hand. Even if he was literally perfect and she was basically a living, breathing, dumpster fire.

She huffed bitterly, kicking off the oversized bottoms. His loose shirt came below her knees, like a modest dress. "Cat, it'll have to do," she said to the orange monstrosity who was batting at the fern in the corner of the room. She glared at the cat, wondering what sort of trickster demon he was, given that he had placed her in this miserable circumstance.

Lily grabbed her clothes and rolled them into each other, using the moisture as glue. Droplets fell onto his bedroom carpet, which she vindictively viewed as retribution. She continued to nervously tuck the pieces into a tight ball, hiding her underwear deep in the fabric knot. The wringing caused more leaking, and she pointedly ignored them. With a dramatic huff, she sent herself a bright, fake smile in the mirror before marching to the door. I can do this, she promised herself. She cleared her throat to quell the itchiness. I can do this.

Lily was greeted to the smell of something savory in the air. How long had she been in the room hiding? She saw Potter's back was to her, maybe a strategic move to save her dignity, she pondered but dismissed it as him being too uncharacteristically considerate. Her legs mindlessly took her to him regardless, and her stomach agreed with a hum. She tried to move quietly and was proud that he never turned to her. Instead, she admired the way his green shirt was taut on his back muscles, which were wiry and lean like she had admired many times before in their shared gym downstairs by the lobby. Gods, she thought, the fridge magnets were so true. His butt was a snack.

She felt a tickle in her throat and bit back a cough to continue eyeing him up. He was bending forward with half his body hidden behind the fridge door, hunting for something in the deep recesses of his fancy refrigerator. Lily's cheeks were burning hot from her shameless voyeurism. She took a deep breath before deciding to break the silence. Be brave, she told herself.

"Potter," he bolted upright with a startled grunt, dropping a handful of vegetables onto the floor. She bent down to collect an onion that rolled to her foot. He was scooping up a few potatoes, a celery stalk tucked in his armpit, and a tomato was clutched in his mouth. He looked absolutely adorable, with the very strange, uniquely Potter, deer-in-headlights at a farmer's market aesthetic. She smiled at him as she helped take his pile of potatoes. "Thank you for the clothes."

He blinked at her, like he wasn't really sure what to say, and took the tomato out his mouth to inspect for teeth marks. Maybe he was stalling for time? Maybe he was also embarrassed? She watched him push his glasses up his nose, like it was a nervous habit. His eyes flickered to her bare legs for less than a millisecond, only noticeable because she was looking for it.

"I'm sorry about scarring you for life, um, earlier," she paused and tried to force a laugh out to make the situation less awkward. "I got spooked. I didn't know you have a cat." Potter was bustling around the kitchen, focusing on expertly chopping at the tomato and sneaking glances up at her to let her know he was listening. She watched his knifework, liking the way his long fingers were gracefully moving around to scoop up the mushy bits. Wow, get a hold of yourself, you damn creep. She shuffled over to place the potatoes on the countertop and nervously brushed her shirt off. Her head snapped up when she heard him mumble a reply.

"Ah, that's Algernon…I'm sorry about ah, yaknow. He doesn't usually leave from under the bed and I, ah, well, I didn't…You didn't scar me. No, definitely no," he broke off his ramble with a low chuckle that made her ears burn. "I'm making soup. For your cold." He motioned with the knife to point at the bubbling pot on the stove. She slid past him to go stir the simmering broth, not sure what to do with herself. His hipbone abruptly bumped against her waist, as he moved to block her with his body. A sharp jolt slid up her spine, as she recognized this being the first time they'd ever been this close. And she had no pants on.

"No, no. Lily, go lay down. You've clearly had a hard day and you're sick. Let me take care of you…" Her eyes darted up to his, still feeling his body flush against hers. "I mean, you'll get your germs all over my kitchen and….And, get us sick too." He licked his lips nervously as she looked up at him. God, she hated how he towered over her. And how he managed to go from sweet to condescending in 10 seconds flat. She coughed into the crook of her elbow, on purpose, before sneering and pushing past his barricading body. She laid down on the same couch as before, thinking about how so much and so little had happened and yet here she was, back at where it began moments ago. In her head, his silky voice sang her name repeatedly. She liked the way it sounded, yearned to hear him say it again. But he always called her by her surname. Usually. But today was unusual.

The TV came on with a flicker and she tilted her head begrudgingly to his direction. Out of the corner of her eye, she saw him fiddling with his phone. Ah, a fancy-schmancy 'Smart TV'. The channels flashed by, and she caught glimpses of a soccer game and the weather channel. It landed on a cartoon channel, and she turned to glare at him. Was he calling her immature, after asking to take care of her?

"For my Disney Princess," he laughed with an extravagant bow, finishing off with a playful gesturing of his knife like a sword. She bit back a smile and swiveled back to the screen, feeling comfortable he wasn't insulting her. If he wasn't such a moron, it could have even been considered legitimate flirting. Feeling content, she nestled into the cozy cushions, and inhaled the scent she now knew to be definitively him.

Lily wasn't sure how it happened, but the next thing she knew, she was being jostled awake. She groggily blinked the sleep out of her eyes, squinting as she glanced around to take in her surroundings. Potter's long nose was almost touching hers, causing her to sink deeper into the cushions, placing a safe distance between them. She swallowed thickly, her sore throat protesting more than ever, as her cold had settled in during her impromptu nap. He leaned back and brought a spoonful of the most delicious-smelling soup to her mouth. Her eyes darted around seeking her glasses, not able to locate them with her terrible vision. Instead, she sat back and dutifully opened her mouth. The searing broth made her groan with pleasure as it slid down her aching throat. She practically purred as he brought another spoonful to her face, taking a quick second to blow on it for her, before returning on the path to her open mouth.

She happily let him feed her, enjoying the pampering. Being babied by her crush was both mortifying and intensely gratifying. In the moments of slurping down his amazing cooking, and silently leaning closer to him, she could almost pretend he was her caring, loving boyfriend. As she chewed on a mouthful of potato, he took a quick taste. "Wow! This actually doesn't taste bad! I mean, I thought you were too sick to taste anything, to be honest. I just threw a bunch of junk in the pot, but this actually isn't terrible!" He was grinning at her, making her high on his lavish attention. He shoveled a few spoonful into his mouth before sheepishly returning to nourishing her.

"I'm going to get you sick," Lily complained with a frown. He prodded her downturned lips with the spoon, causing a droplet of soup to dribble down her chin. Like feeding a baby, he used the spoon to catch the trickle before slurping it down himself, throwing a saucy wink her way. Lily felt paralyzed with confusion. He was rewriting her assumptions about him by helping her like this. This was a drastic shift in her 'Potterisms' worldview of how she expected him to act.

In fact, it was making her dizzy with the realization that he might genuinely be interested in her, if a little blind to the fact that she was rather frumpy and crotchety. He was like sunshine, melting her winter-chilled soul. She greedily ate the remainder of the soup, glad that he didn't seem fazed by sharing her saliva. It was like indirect kissing, and she bit her lip nervously, wishing his face wasn't so close to hers. She never felt safe without her glasses or contacts in, but he could have stapled her eyes shut and she'd still have been boneless in his presence from sheer relaxation.

"Potter," she sighed breathily, "I-," He cut her off.

"James. It's James," he said with that sweet, coaxing smile that brought one to her face as well.

"James…I'm so stuffed. Thank you for taking care of me." He had a pleased disposition, as he sat back to admire her well-fed, heavy-lidded self. Lily stifled a burp causing him to bark out a laugh before they both returned their gazes to the TV, neither of them paying attention to the screen, too lost in their thoughts. She never wanted to leave his side.

Eventually James got up, before handing her the familiar spectacles she was missing. She wondered if he knew she was fake-watching the show, since she had forgotten that she couldn't see. He took the bowl to the kitchen and slipped back into the seat beside her, reaching out to ruffle her hair with one hand. The action was so brotherly and comforting that she wondered if she had accidentally ended up in the friend-zone. The entire situation was so bizarre. It was also surreal that she hadn't once felt the stress of deadlines or misery of missing her family, nor did she ever wonder what time it was.

Lily glanced around, searching but not finding a clock on the walls. Her lovely couch companion raised a curious brow, knocking his knee against hers.

"Time?" she inquired, sagging into the couch and refusing to acknowledge she just wanted to be closer to him. He had the loveliest body heat, like his aura was reaching out to caress her.

"Ah, well you slept a bit. I didn't want to wake you up. It's ten….thirty." He let the word sink in. She had made him waste his whole day babysitting her! He had reheated the soup for her! Appalled, she darted to her feet, trying to climb over him to head towards the door.

"James! You-I, ohmygod, I can't believe you let me stay here so long! What were you thinking?!" She apologized profusely while trying to evade him as she wandered around frantically searching for her backpack, purse, and clothes. He gave up trying to stop her on her war-path, as she'd brushed past him like a dancer escaping his repeated attempts to catch her. She was already clutching her bags in a death grip when he handed her a neatly folded parcel of her freshly laundered clothes, making her feel washed away with even more guilt. Lily was stumbling over her own feet trying to race to his door, refusing to hear him trying to calm her down. Her body was burning hot with the shame that raced in her veins.

"I'm so SO sorry. God, I'm such a- Shit, James. You're so amazing. Thank you for today," she was already in the hallway now, and since her shoes weren't on the welcome mat in-front of her apartment door, Severus was already home.

"I promise I'll make it up to you!" she cried out, refusing to look at him as she pounded on her own door, forcing her eyes to stay trained on the apartment numbers 394. Only when Severus opened their door and she was slipping past him did she turn back to glance at James.

James Potter looked frustrated and distraught, with his left hand tugging his messy black hair and the other hand's knuckles were pure white as they gripped his doorframe with some sort of emotion. She didn't have time to ponder it as she rushed past Severus and ran straight to her bedroom, forcibly locking the door before throwing herself onto the bed with a loud scream muffled by her pillows. Her shame cut through her bones, rattling her to the core. Her bags and clothes were thrown angrily against the wall with a loud cry.

She could hear Severus hammering on her door, asking her what was wrong and begging her to come talk. But she couldn't. She wasn't even sure what she would say to him. He hated James. James hated him. And she was pretty sure she liked James. And James liked her. Why was this such a mess? Why did she rush off so dramatically? Why, why, WHY?! She cried tears of embarrassment, feeling like a naughty child, until she cried herself to sleep. Her last thoughts before sweet slumber were a firm promise to make things even. She would make it up to him. His selflessness, his kindness, his smile, his scent, they all muddled together into a delicious soup as her tiredness overtook her.


	3. Hummingbirds

Author's note: Thank you Cgner for your lovely reviews and support! I'm aiming to impress XD My very last semester starts tomorrow! Fingers crossed that I do well! PM me if you've had experience with GMAT test prep :D Again, I'm not Lady Rowling. Moping!Lily is my current aesthetic, but so is Pining!Lily….can't decide which is better.

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Lily Evans was the cowardliest fool in the existence of the universe. And the icing on her pity cake was that she had the most abominable cold ever. Severus had left for work early but stopped by to tell her that he'd pummel Potter for her honor which made her chuckle under her breath. James could probably take him in a few seconds, but it was still a sweet offer. He was the best friend a girl could ask for.

She emailed her Thursday and Friday classes to cancel their lectures. Instead, she posted some readings that they would have a quiz on next week and thanked the gods that the weekend was near. She could hide out in her apartment for four days straight to lick her wounded ego. As a PhD candidate, the stipend that came with her fellowship was the only reason she was able to live in New York. She refused to jeopardize it for her health but this was her first absence in three years of teaching. Luckily the students were very understanding. She even posted an apology email with a picture of a sad pug to beg for forgiveness.

She lazed around the apartment in his shirt, putting on an oversized hoodie over it because they rarely cranked the heat up to living standards from the obvious high costs. She ate a few bites of canned soup cursing the high heavens that she hadn't stole James' recipe. Or James himself. The soup was abandoned, tasting too much like failure and old beans. A few times she snuck a peek out the peephole when she heard footsteps in the hall, but it was only Peter and Remus. Perhaps he was calling in for reinforcements, to help figure out Lily's asinine actions. Sirius hadn't been home, or maybe he had been dead quiet in his bedroom during her 10 o'clock rampage. It was so creepy that Lily had memorized James' life like this. She knew some things about him, like Sirius was either adopted brother or a distant cousin of some sort. They looked identical, except Sirius would throw her lecherous, teasing grins whenever she saw him smoking under the canopy outside of the building. James wouldn't ever look at her like that, nor did he smoke. She wasn't afraid to admit Sirius intimidated her, with his dashing looks. He had piercings and tattoos, his hair was long like a swashbuckling pirate prince. Definitely the dangerous sort. Peter was a lumpy sort of guy, short and quiet, with watery eyes like he had perpetual allergies. They had spoken only once before, when he had knocked on her door to ask to borrow candles during a blackout. He had waddled over wearing footy pajamas looking quite like a one-manned comedy show. Remus was her friend actually. He was an acquaintance at NYU, a doctoral student like her, though she couldn't remember what his field was for the death of her. She had many gossipy conversations with him about the latest policies or campus news whenever they bumped into each other in the lobby. Remus was the easiest to get along with. Aside from James himself apparently.

She stared out her apartment window, eying the customers bustling into the bodega across the street like clockwork. Snowflakes were falling lightly, turning to slush once they hit the ground. She let out a puffed breath fogging the window up. 'I need to talk to someone', she grumbled mentally. She checked the time, noticing it was almost 1pm. She knew James would be bustling around and she was tempted to go over and apologize. Instead she settled for puttering around, listlessly cleaning up after Severus and checking a few emails on her phone.

Eventually, while curled up in a bundle of blankets on her bed, she Skype-called her favorite person.

"Hija, you don't usually call midday," her mama's beautiful face contorted with concern as she surveyed the pitiful state Lily was in. "Are you sick?"

Lily nodded miserably, burrowing deeper into the blankets. She grumbled that her she had a sore throat and she just wanted some company. Her mama's skeptical brown eyes searched her face, but she conceded and was more than happy to monologue about what the last two weeks had been like back home. Back home wasn't far, just New Jersey, but with money and time tight it felt thousands of miles away.

She found out her little sister, Rosalie, had taken her first steps and her chest ached knowing she had missed another big moment in their life. She missed them. Her Abuelita always called them her garden. Petunia, Rosie, and Lily, her flowers. And Enrique, her pansy, Lily thought with a snicker. She missed Tuney too, but that was a whole other can of worms. Tuney hated them, the family that had adopted them after their real parents died in a car crash. They had been fostered, Petunia a petulant 13-year-old and Lily only 8 at the time. She grew up loving her adoptive family as her own, but Petunia refused to see them as replacements and had left the moment she graduated high school. Left Lily.

She focused back on her Mama talking about some drama with a new neighbor, which made her blush a dark mauve, giving away her thoughts too easily. Mama raised an eyebrow, not pushing for details but Lily wanted to spill so bad to someone about how grandly she had fucked things up.

"…I did something stupid!" she wailed hysterically, gesticulating wildly as she did a dramatic retelling worthy of an Oscar. Mama would tsk and nod at all the right times and Lily knew she had chosen the right person to confide in. She started feeling alive again, feeling invigorated as her mother quelled the beasts in her mind. She could fix things. Maybe with an apology pie. Or a date. How she'd love a date.

"Tamales!" Enrique had hollered offscreen, causing Lily to complain loudly that her mama was supposed to be ALONE. Her pride was so wounded. She'd never live this down. Every Thanksgiving for the rest of forever they'd bring up 'Thirsty Lily', her imagination sobbed. She didn't want to brave the weather to go buy ingredients, nor did she want to spend money, or cook even. Enrique was chattering in the background trying to throw his unwanted advice to her. God help her.

Her mother was talking.

"They say the way to a man's heart is his stomach," her mom paused to smack Enrique in the back of his head, who had popped up to cheekily add, "No! It's his dick!"

She smiled despite herself, at her little brother's dorky antics. At 16, he was growing like a beanpole. His hair was long like Sirius' and she made a note to badger him to get a haircut. "As I was saying, before this idiota interrupted, I think tamales are a great idea! I can whip some up and come visit you! It's been so long since you let me baby you." She broke off with a wistful, fond smile at Lily whom pouted back.

"You have a real baby to baby. That's too much on your hands-" she paused to blow her nose into some tissues, "I don't want you driving in this awful weather. It's too risky, please." She used her biggest puppy eyes, knowing that her it was her mother's Kryptonite.

"Lily…." Her mother tried again, fussing at Rosie who had toddled over to smile toothily into the camera. Lily wanted to cry, staring at the beautiful round face of her darling sister. She wanted them to come visit, but she knew it was selfish.

"I'm okay, I swear." She changed the topic, instead asking for more juicy details on Enrique's new boyfriend. His very first boyfriend. God, she felt like the worst sister missing so many important milestones. She glared at her phone, blaming it for not reminding her to text more often. Enrique was also home sick, with the stomach bug, but her mother admitted her suspicions that he wanted to avoid school due to a little lover's spat. By the time she finished talking to her family she felt loads better. She said her goodbyes, drawn out as they were, and felt light enough to want to take a shower and start her day fresh.

Feeling euphoric after seeing her chaotic, silly family made her do something impulsive but she refused to second-guess herself. She took a notecard from her desk and scribbled 'Thank you James! -Lily" in her sloppy, loopy cursive. She dotted the 'i' with a flourished heart, smiling to herself as she hoped it would convey that she was definitely interested…if he was.

Lily crept out into the hallway, making sure to not trod heavily as she slipped the notecard into the crack under his door. She raced back into her apartment, heart fluttering in her chest. It was exhilarating. He better not be giving her mixed signals she harrumphed, before kicking off her hoodie and his lovely shirt to get into the shower. Hot and steamy, it soothed her muscles and cleared her sinuses in the most wonderful way.

As she was towel-drying her hair, she heard a light knocking on her door. Ohmygod, she whispered furiously at herself to go answer the door but her feet were firmly stuck to the floor. Instead, she heard shuffled feet as someone walked away, releasing the iron-clad weight of anxiety that had petrified her. It was probably James. She had a weird feeling in her gut, like sparrows were flapping violently trying to escape.

She crept to the door after getting fully dressed as quickly as possible in a loose jeans and fleece pullover. The peephole revealed no one was waiting to ambush her. She cracked the door a sliver and tried looking around, feeling like she should menacingly holler, "here's Johnny!" Instead, she opened the door fully, feeling safe enough that James wasn't trying to sneakily murder her from around the corner. She blinked.

And blinked.

And blinked some more.

God, are you even real?

The pot…the dreaded soup pot, lidded and wrapped in a gingham kitchen hand-towel, was innocently sitting atop her welcome mat.

She shuddered with glee when she lifted it and realized it was very heavy, very full. Cradling it like a long-lost child, she hugged it to her body and thanked the heavens that James was her neighbor. Her very hot, caring neighbor. Smitten didn't even cover it.

She didn't even want to share any with Severus. This was her little secret, she thought greedily as she placed it on the stove to reheat directly in the pot.

"I think Lily Potter sounds quite good, don't you?" she questioned her distorted reflection on the pot's lid. Yes, _very good indeed_ , she'd later admit as she chewed thoughtfully on a potato. This potato was a labor of love, she hummed happily.

"I'm going to make tamales," she promised the empty kitchen. A vow that made her heart soar happily. She'd see him again, make things right, then kiss him senseless.

Lily Evans didn't take things lying down. Unless of course there was a James Potter on top, she giggled madly, as she drained the remaining soup into plastic Tupperware to store in the fridge.

Severus came through the door exactly at six and began grilling her immediately on what the fuck happened yesterday. Lily was still deliriously happy from the gift of sustenance James had bestowed upon her doormat, and her replies came out rambling like tangled threads. Severus wasn't very happy to know she had allowed herself to be vulnerable by sleeping in Potter's home. It made her indignant, fiery retorts quickly defending James which made a long, thin eyebrow raise in response. Severus wasn't happy, and he went to bed refusing to eat the blasted soup, concerned it was poisoned perhaps. Instead, he nibbled on a granola bar and his comforting baritone voice continued to nag her about Potter's nefarious intentions. He had stormed off to his room, hands angrily tugging his greasy locks, as Lily refused to be scolded for her actions. She told him to take better care of himself and get some rest, with her face pressed against the cold wooden door. Her ears strained to hear his response but she heard a quiet, "I will…You too, Lils."

Feeling like that was the best she would get, she left him to his own devices. The apartment felt oppressive from the thick tension. She missed James' calming cappuccino walls and his stupid overly large, posh TV. They didn't have cable, instead paying for a monthly Netflix subscription and relying on Youtube for news. It wasn't that big of a sacrifice. She was acutely aware that she wasn't well-to-do like James, but maybe he didn't mind. She wasn't sure she gave off the impression she was poor, and he hadn't seen her living space before. A chuckle slipped past her lips as she imagined James wandering around Severus' apartment. He had proclaimed Potter his mortal enemy during the first week they moved in. He never explained what happened but Remus let it slip that Potter had made some rather suggestive remarks about her. That's what had formed her first impression on what a turd he was. But Potter was rewriting her assumptions.

Moreover, Lily missed James' comforting presence. Severus wasn't much of company. He rarely was around and when he was, they spent their time in silence. It wasn't unenjoyable, but it wasn't…stimulating. She was restless by the time 10 o'clock came around. She was sick of browsing the internet and the students hadn't sent any inquiries. She had graded papers earlier enough to guarantee she wouldn't have to do any more during the next for day. Snow was still coming strong, with the fast winds whipping white flurries and lashing at the awnings of the 24/7 corner-store across the street. Sensational Subs wasn't a deli as much as it was a convenience store. They sold killer pastrami sandwiches though. Lily wasn't sure what to do with herself but her body was possessed.

She found herself knocking on James' door. The peephole slid open quickly before flicking shut with a hollow 'thunk'.

It swung open widely, to reveal a grinning Sirius bracing in the doorway. Her voice left her. She wanted to turn and run, curl up in her blankets and hide forever. His grey eyes surveyed her merrily, his smile never leaving his face as she stood there wide-eyed and awkwardly shuffling her feet. He had long toes too, she noted, as she stared down at the ground between them. She couldn't bear to look up.

"JAMES!" He called backwards into his apartment, "Your ginger bootycall is here!"

She cried out in mortification and quickly scrambled back into her apartment. She could hear his loud guffawing echo in the corridor. Muffled male voices came from behind her door, like James was fighting with his brother in the hallway. She slid down the door, falling to the floor with an exhausted grunt. Her tailbone would complain tomorrow, but she was too embarrassed to care. Stupid, stupid-god, I'm a friggin' moron. She held her head in her hands, hoping Severus wouldn't leave his self-exile out of curiosity. Hopefully, she hadn't been too loud. Her face was so hot from sheer terror at being called out earlier. She hadn't meant for it to look like that sort of-well, that wasn't her intention. She didn't even know why she went over. Sirius was the devil. Like Potter's cat. Why did he surround himself with evil?

She felt the knocks on the door against her spine, jarring her alert, before she could comprehend them. She didn't need to look through the peephole. 'Lily Evans does not back down', she told herself in a motivational mantra.

She slowly opened the door to reveal a very antsy James. Her body sagged in relief, glad it wasn't that jerk Sirius here to make fun of her more. She stared at him cautiously, watching his Adam's apple bob as he gulped in some air.

"Hi." His lips were tilted upwards. He looked so handsome, so vibrant and alive against the murky grey hallway walls. His hair looked like he was electrocuted recently.

"Hi…." Lily trailed off, "Tha-"

"Sor-," he started before realizing they were both trying to talk. She awkwardly cleared her throat and motioned for him to go first.

"I'm sorry about Sirius. He just likes getting a reaction from people. And I'm fairly sure he was born defective." Lily watched him turn to give his brother, who was lingering in their doorway trying to eavesdrop, the stink-eye. Sirius grinned widely when he made eye contact with her and she shot him the middle finger packaged with a scowl, causing James to laugh.

Lily opened her mouth to talk, not sure how else to fill the silence. "I dunno why I came over, to be honest. I just wanted to thank you for the soup in-person. I wasn't interrupting anything, was I?" She looked up at him from her lashes as she talked. She liked the way he watched her, like he was enthralled. Lily brushed her hair from her face and tried to curve her lips into a soft smile. His eyebrows were scrunched up like he was trying to solve a particularly difficult calculus problem. Not exactly the best reaction at her first attempt at being flirty. She frowned, worried she was coming on too strong.

"Are you wearing contacts?" he said after a brief period of silence. Oh. She nodded shyly. She flushed deeply, knowing that he had caught her little attempt to look pretty for him.

"Your eyes are really green. I've never seen you without glasses before." He was watching her like a snake about to devour his prey, and she swore she would combust if they hadn't been standing in the hallway with an audience. Her eyes flickered to Sirius whom was trying to low-key take a picture of them with his phone possibly. He tossed a wink her way and she quickly averted her eyes back to James.

"Do….you want to-" She motioned with her chin to come in away from prying eyes. He glanced over her head, into the apartment behind her. She felt embarrassed, letting him see their poverty for the first time. Maybe he'd think they were really the minimalist Scandanavian chic sort and not the second-hand hobo sort.

"Here's a better idea. Give me a quick second, alright?" He gave her a lopsided grin before dashing back into his apartment. Sirius followed him inside their home and she continued to stand out in the open corridor feeling perturbed but curious.

He came back with a Duane Reade bag clutched in his hand and was trying to maneuver putting on a coat with one arm like a contortionist. Her eyebrows raised.

"I got you some medicine. I was gonna drop it by earlier but Snape said you were sleeping." He was putting the plastic sack in her hands, making her feel flustered at his thoughtfulness and having half a mind to go cuss out Sev for trying to cockblock her. She bit her lip to try to stop the sappy smile that overtook her face.

"Grab your coat." She wasn't sure this was how her night was supposed to go, with her apology again being overshadowed by James' kinder actions. If this were a pissing contest, she shouldn't have even showed up because she lost twenty-something years ago when he was born.

"Okay. Let me take some before we head out, kay?" She wandered into her kitchen, surprised to see him follow her inside. Perhaps he didn't hate Severus as much as she thought originally, considering he was eying Sev's book collection with interest. The bookshelf was dusty and well-worn, but he preoccupied himself instead of inspecting her living room. She was glad she cleaned earlier, feeling like he'd judge her and be put off.

Instead, he took a book and plopped down on her couch, comfortably throwing his feet up on their coffee table. She wondered what reality she stepped into, seeing this male model look effortlessly casual in her usual spot. She tipped a capful of Robitussin down her throat. It was enough to make her shudder with revulsion and quell the schoolgirl swoon that was building. Quickly washing it down with some tap water, she grabbed her coat from the counter and went to quickly rap on Sev's door.

"Severus, I'm going out with James. Don't bolt the lock!" She quickly ran to the couch, grabbed James' hand in hers and dragged him out the door before Sev had a chance to burst forth and rage at her traitor self. She let out a burst of laughter after they were safely in the elevator away from her grumpy roommate. James was looking at her with appreciation and so much affection that she thought she'd tip over and melt into a puddle at his feet. He was still laughing as he tugged her hand and led her out the lobby, never letting go and rather choosing to entangle his spider fingers in hers. Trapping her.

She squeezed back and threw her coat hood over her head, to protect from the brewing blizzard. James prattled on happily, swinging their hands as they strolled down the block. She wasn't sure where they were going, but the wind was lashing at her face and the frostbite made tears gather at the sides of her eyes. She could feel her nose stinging even as she howled a laughter at the story about how he had tried to lock Remus and Sirius up once in a closet before realizing they were very straight and very pissed at his attempted matchmaking. She felt intoxicated, though her hands were soggy against his from anxiety sweat and snow flurries. Her face felt like it'd crack into two from how wide her smile was. Even though she hated the weather, had the worst cold ever, and felt like her frail heart couldn't handle much more excitement, she knew there was no place she'd rather be than wherever he was leading her.

James took her to a small café before leading them to a seat in the far corner away from others. Many times Lily had passed this particular restaurant but never had enough budget to stop inside. Her and Severus had a tight meal schedule with a strict no-eating-out policy.

Lily sat down and let him fuss at her, as he tried brushing snowflakes out of her hair. She leaned into his hand when he lightly ran a finger over her numb cheek. So warm. Her eyelids fluttered closed and she breathed a soft sigh, letting him thumb at her nose to leave a blazing trail of fire. She felt so thawed, so vulnerable. Her tongue flicked out to wet her chapped lips and she heard him clear his throat before settling back into his chair. She stared at the menu, feeling his eyes boring into her face. God, he was going to make her die, right here. She used a napkin to cover a sneeze before finally returning her eyes to meet his. If this was a porno, she would have gladly climbed on the table and let him take her, with the hot gaze his gorgeous hazel eyes held. Maybe her fever was making her delirious, she thought giddily, watching him tell the waitress his order.

Lily ordered when it was her turn. "Just a tea please, with honey and some….creamer or milk?" He made a clucking noise of protest with the back of his throat, expecting her to pick a full meal like he had done. But honestly, her stomach was already in too many knots from excitement to properly digest. Plus, she didn't want him to think she was using him for his money, having already received too many gifts from this sweet, sweet man.

Too bad he wasn't hers. ' _Yet'_ , whispered the devil on her shoulder.

Lily let him do most of the talking, enjoying the way his eyes lit-up as he spoke. She pretended her throat was hurting more than it actually was. The tea soothed it enough, for her to ask something she had wondered for a long time.

"Is Sirius your brother?" He had just taken a giant mouthful of his panini and motioned to give him a second to chew. She continued talking so he wouldn't feel obligated to. "Severus said he's one of your inbred second cousins you took pity on. Apparently that's what Stacy told him." Stacy was the lobby attendant who collected their mail and made sure they paid rent on time. Not wanting to give James a chance to ponder why she was gossiping about them, she carried on. "I mean, you do look related. But he's so…" She paused, watching him pat at his mouth with a napkin like some sort of royalty. "Rough around the edges, I guess. Remus is super cool though. I don't really have an opinion on Peter."

"Been thinking about my friends a lot lately? I'm jealous." He chuckled, with that same silly grin on his face that made her want to kiss him senseless. "Sirius is my cousin, yeah. That's really funny though, I can't believe people think he's inbred!" He let out a deep laugh that reverberated in her soul. "We unofficially adopted him when he was 12. Honorary Potter now. I didn't know you knew Remus and Peter….How'd you know them?"

She prattled on about the time they had the week-long blackout in the building about a year ago. "As for Remus, we teach in the same building."

"Oh?" He had that gleam in his eye, like he already knew this. She hoped that he had secretly harbored a crush on her as well that led to an equally creepy and incriminating mental dossier of her life story. Lily talked about the classes she taught, about her goals for the future, and they both joked about the large amount of debt they were sitting on. He was so funny and quick-witted. She enjoyed talking to him, not realizing she had drank all her tea until he flagged the waitress down.

"We'll take the chocolate cake, just one slice to share. And a tea refill." James said, acting like he hadn't just sealed this not-date date with that seemingly innocent order of dessert. They prattled on about her obsession with musicals and he admitted his mother had dragged him to many Broadway shows growing up. Sirius came up again, as he reminisced about the time they tried taking drama classes in high school to pick-up cute girls and ended up winning Sirius a scholarship to an arts college.

"I'm adopted too actually…" she trailed off, mixing the honey into her new cup of tea with lazy swirls of her spoon, thinking about Sirius.

"What?!" He looked so shocked, like his own worldview had perhaps shifted. She let him open and pour the two tiny cups of creamer in for her. They worked in-sync like an old married couple comfortably undertaking the task of perfect teamaking.

"Yeah, I mean, I'm not ashamed of it or anything," she paused to dig in her jacket for her phone with one hand. "My parents are amazing. They were our neighbors and when we ended up in foster care, they took me and my sister in. Didn't want us starting new schools during the….that traumatic time." She paused to answer his questions. Yes, she had an older sister. Her name is Petunia and they were estranged. Hadn't seen her in over seven years. Yes, her birth parents were dead but she kept their last name to show her love for them that hadn't faded.

"My family is amazing, seriously." She glowed as she began talking about their nickname/inside-joke, her Abuelita's garden. She went through her Facebook to show him her little Rosie. He fawned over Rosalie's cherub face and toothy smile. Honestly, who wouldn't? She found some pictures of Enrique at his dance practice and shared the exciting news that he had gotten his first boyfriend and she was brimming with joy as she flicked through the pictures with him. James asked about her mama and her papa, sharing her sorrow when she admitted he passed last year from cancer. He hadn't even gotten to see Rosie start walking. She started tearing up and James reached out to take her hand in his. She moved on and talked about her mother's great cooking and how she couldn't wait for them to meet.

Abruptly, she snatched her hand away, catching what she said with eyes like saucers.

"I-I, mean, not like that!" She had started laughing a nervous, squeaky sound that broke the café ambiance. He was smiling warmly at her when he leaned over the table to take her hand back into his. Her fingers felt clammy and limp entrapped in his own. Her coat made her suddenly feel far too suffocated and hot. His face was open, calm, and welcoming as he spoke.

"I'd like to meet them. Honest." His other hand joined in capturing hers and they sat staring at each other with the heavy implications of their actions. The pair made quite an impression from far, she could imagine, looking like a couple. Like lovers. The waitress came and placed the cake on the edge of their table before briskly walking away. Lily pulled her hands away, her heart flittering in her chest like she'd swallowed a hummingbird. Her fingers tingled testily, urging her to return to his grip. She stood up.

"I-I think, I'm not too hungry and it's getting late. I've, got-lecture, class to teach early. Sorry." She was digging through her pockets for a few dollars to cover her drink now. "I have to go. Thank you-for, for everything. For the soup and the tea. And for everything." She was rambling over his voice as he tried to talk her into staying. His hazel eyes were pleading for her to calm down, standing to try to stop her. His fingers caught the edge of her coat, tugging her close. Why was she always running away from things? Running away from him?

She twirled around, nose bumping into his broad chest. He lifted the hood on her coat over her head and silently helped tuck her hair into the fabric. She bit her lip and refused to meet his eye. She felt his lips brush her forehead and a soft 'woosh' of air escaped her lips. Fucking hell. She took a small step backwards, to give herself some room to breathe. He had that same patient look in his eyes, but his lips were in a thin line. She gulped shakily before grabbing her phone off the tabletop and making a hasty retreat.

Her walk back to the apartment was mechanical, her thought process frozen like her entire body. She didn't know how she made it back without being run over by a taxi cab, but somehow she found herself sitting on her couch eyeing the Duane Reade bag filled with medicine. She cried that night, for the second time in a row for overreacting and ruining her chances.


	4. Talk Tamales

Author's note: Ah, three chapters in three days. On a roll, I am. Not sure where this story is taking me, James writes himself and the plot follows. Steamy goodness ensues.

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Lily woke up before the sun rose, wiping the crust out of her eyes and braiding her long, tangled hair in the bathroom mirror. Bright doe-eyes stared back at her looking like the freshest springtime leaves. She always hated her eyes because they made her look like Christmas, what with the flaming red locks that ran down her back. At least her name wasn't Holly. That would have been cruel. She washed her face, scrubbing at her forehead where she could have sworn she had been kissed. It was probably a fever delusion, she thought bitterly. Her freckles splattered along her upturned pink-tipped nose, making her look awfully young. How could anyone be attracted to her in this state? She glared at the mirror, brushing her teeth aggressively. She smiled viciously at her reflection when she was done, gnashing her teeth in a feral Cheshire grin as she remembered her vow of tamales. I can _and will_ fix this.

She texted her brother that she loved him dearly and that she left him her laptop in her Will, in the event that she died of heartbreak if James rejected her. Lily Evans would take control of her love life. Her mother had emailed her the secret recipe last night and she knew it was the sign that today was the day. Mama's intuition and whatnot. She sent a few short lines in a text, to let her mom know to start wedding planning. Today was the glorious day that would change her life forever.

She drank medicine and bundled up before heading out to grab groceries. It would cost her next week's budget ration, but it was worth it. He was worth it. Rock salt crackled and crunch under her footsteps and she was glad that the snow wasn't falling today. Instead, it gathered along the sides of the road as sludgy black ice. She treaded cautiously on her way back, carrying a few bags on each arm. She regretted not asking Severus to help her but he needed his beauty sleep. She took a moment to enjoy the orange sunrise silhouetted against the skyline as she sat on the steps to her apartment building for a quick rest. Those bags were heavy as fuck.

Severus gave her a concerned second glance as he rushed out the lobby and saw her on the way up. He was knotting his silver tie and juggling a coffee cup with his hands and a bagel was lodged between his snarled teeth. She smiled in what she hoped was a reassuring gesture. No, I'm not going mad. Don't worry about me. She'd text him later.

Lily Evans spent the first hour making the meat filling. As the meat simmered and filled the air with nostalgia, she read a few articles and sent a few emails. She shredded the cooked pork shoulder, sneaking a few tastes for quality assurance purposes obviously. Lily made sure to text progress pictures to her mother, getting feedback on the thickness of her sauce and just around 6:30AM she got a call. Her mama walked her through how to fold the corn husks the right way. Her family was so supportive of her madness. She chattered happily with her baby sister, happy to hear her garbled attempts at talking like a human. God, Rosie was just a little potato, barely able to hold her head up, and now she was already wandering around the house causing mayhem. It was amazing how quick it had happened. They grow up too fast, she thought fondly. With the typical drawn-out goodbyes, she promised her mother an update on her new son-in-law-to-be.

In the end, Lily had made 19 tamales. Far too much for any sane person to eat, but luckily he had friends. Technically 20 tamales, but she left one for Severus even though he hated anything moderately seasoned or flavored. He always claimed indigestion, but Severus was just too safe to enjoy anything that wasn't mashed potatoes.

The tamales were stacked in Potter's soup pot. She would seduce him with her family's secret recipes. Yes, seduce the pants off that cute butt. It was only 8 o'clock when she knocked on his door. She had wanted to wait until noon, but she wanted to get them to him as fresh as possible. And it had nothing to do with how excited she was to see him. Nothing at all.

Sirius opened the door shirtlessly displaying the many designs that crawled up his ribcage. He looked down at Lily's tiny frame, making her feel smaller than she was. The oversized pot she cradled to her chest didn't do anything except continue to dwarf her. She could chop Sirius up and cook him in the pot if he said anything rude, she thought snidely.

"It's too early. Go away, Ginger." He was frowning down at her, reaching to help take the weight off her arms. She refused to budge, stubbornly pouting at him. With an exasperated sigh, he gestured for her to follow him inside. His dark jeans hung low on his hipbones, she noted while decidedly not staring at the dimples on his back. She sat at their bar area as Sirius unwrapped a tamale and hopped up to sit on the marble countertop beside her. Like a power play, the position again made her feel even more diminutive.

He whistled appreciatively after he took his first bite. She stared at a busty zombie pinup woman on his abdomen instead of making eye contact. He let out a long belch before reaching for another tamale that he cut open with a fork and slowly devoured. She stayed quiet, letting him size her up which he did without abandon. They didn't talk. The silence was filled with Sirius' obnoxious chewing and hums of enjoyment.

"Alright, you've won me over," he said, patting her head like she was a dog. She swallowed down a lump in her throat she hadn't realized was there. "Go get him, tiger."

She nodded obediently, not understanding what test she had just passed. She stayed at the kitchen counter, frozen in her seat, watching Sirius throw a shirt on. He was really handsome. She thought maybe in another life she could have been ungodly obsessed with him instead.

"I'm headed to work. Don't do anything I wouldn't-," he broke off to wiggle his eyebrows suggestively her way. "Have fun!" With an exaggerated bow and a tip of his invisible hat, he swept out the door. Maybe they could grow to like each other, she tried to think positively. I mean, he had just given her his blessings and so why not, right?

'How to seduce a Potter' was not a course covered during her lengthy educational experience. And Lily didn't have innate wooing capabilities like most women her age. Nor did she have experience in dating, given that she had only ever been kissed once...when she was a gangly preteen with braces and knobby knees. She wondered if she should leave and try to put makeup on to cover her freckles. Maybe some black mascara to hide her wispy copper lashes. She regretted braiding her hair intricately, preferring to hide behind the strands that would fall in her face. Lipstick to make her lips fuller, more seductive, would have been a nice improvement. Instead she squared her shoulders, took a deep lungful of air, and snuck into his room.

'James Potter is a god even when he's drooling and snoring like a tractor. How is that even possible?' Her mind had shorted out. He was tangled in the velvet sheets. The black fabric made his skin look luminous in contrast, so tan and touchable. His cat was sleeping on the pillow next to his head, curled in a tight orange ball of fluff. One arm was hanging off the bed, knuckles a hairsbreadth away from the floor. Even his armpit hair looks nice, she thought grumpily, eying the tuft of soft black hair. She couldn't see any of his torso, but she could tell he wasn't wearing a shirt. His well-defined collarbone with wiry curls of chest hair moved up-and-down with his deep snoring. He looked positively welcoming. Lily felt like falling to her knees, suddenly crippled with indecision and feeling at an absolute loss for what to do next.

She knelt down onto the floor beside the bed and leaned close. This was the first time she had such a free reign to explore his face without fear of being a creeper. This took the cake though, as far as creeper behavior went. She moved forward and whispered his name. A little louder, she breathed out, " _James_."

His eyes flickered open slowly. His irises held amber tendrils against the softest moss green. He blinked a few times blearily before rubbing his face. His eyes were so wide she saw that they were lined with a dark teal rim that faded to brown. Such pretty eyes. She wondered if he liked hers too as they were equally wide and, with her contacts in, completely open to him. The stared at each other for a few seconds before a lazy smile crept up on his face. She liked the way the corners of his eyes crinkled up.

"Hi…" He was biting his bottom lip, trying to stop his face from forming a goofy smile which inadvertently caused one to climb onto hers as well.

"Sirius let me in." It came out like a whisper, because her voice didn't want to break the delicate air that hung. "I'm sorry for last night….I made apology tamales." He was definitely grinning like a loon now. It was an electric smile, one that had her toes wanting to curl from all the attention. He pulled her closer, grabbing the front of her shirt in a fist, and she let her body limply fall against his. His lips made a loud smack as he kissed her forehead.

She shyly looked up at him through her lashes, trying to ignore the deep blush that was creeping a heat up her neck and staining her cheeks. He scooted back on his bed, motioning for her to sit. She heard Algernon growl and he turned to apologize to the cat for coming too close to his tail. This was certainly not how she expected her morning to play out. She daintily laid down, feeling faint and jittery all at once. Her knees felt weak and her breaths were coming out in the softest puffs. He was so warm, throwing his lanky arms around her and snuggling into her backside.

"What a wakeup call." He murmured, tucking his face into where her shoulder met her neck. He let out a quiet laugh that was muffled in her hair. "I hope I'm not dreaming." His breath tickled her, causing goosebumps to form all over her body. She didn't know her little heart was handling this stress. Her whole body felt hyperaware, senses in overdrive. Lily was far too aware that he was shirtless. Her whole body was singing, feeling the velvet brush against her fingertips. Had she died from pneumonia and ended up in heaven? He pulled the comforter snuggly around her, wrapping them in his searing warmth. She'd always wanted to be the little spoon, her mind thought blissfully. They fit like they were molded for each other. Feeling naughty and confident, she pressed her backside closer to him and heard him sigh happily. His breathing returned to deep drawls before soft snoring tickled her earlobe.

Lily wondered how he could go to sleep like this, while her body felt like a live wire had zapped her awake. She wouldn't sleep for another three years at the very least. Her poor heart. Her poor tamales. They lay forgotten on the kitchen table as she snuggled contentedly in his arms. This was the first time a man had _ever_ held her, and it was an experience she sought to memorize. His arm was slung over her waist, curling his fingers with her own. Their legs were like vines, wrapped around each other in the most amazing manner. She thanked the gods for her braid her hair this morning, enjoying his hot breath on the back of her neck. Her nipples were painfully hard against her bra and she stared at the fern across the room trying to count each leaf in Spanish and then backwards in English. Her body was betraying her, being so aroused while James, poor James, had just wanted to innocently sleep. She bit her lip nervously, trying to calm herself. His consuming body heat was igniting her, as she could feel her skin starting to get moist. Deep breaths did nothing to quell the fire in her bones. She wondered if her panties were soaked through, in the deep recesses of her brain. His heartbeat was like a metronome against her spine, letting her own match over time. His mere presence was turning her into some sort of sex fiend.

Her poor mother, giving away their secret family recipe was going to be the direct causation of her deflowering. His poor cat, whom was going to witness Lily's awful lady parts. Poor Sirius, he was going to have to put up with her presence more often. Poor Severus too, for her ultimate betrayal. She had fallen for the enemy. Lily twisted her upper body, turning around to face him while still being seized in his embrace. She pressed a kiss to his lips. And another. And another. His eyes flickered open.

He captured her mouth, coaxing her. Teaching her. Cherishing her. She sighed contentedly into his mouth when he chose to pull her leg over his hip, pressing closer against where she burned the hottest. He was sucking on her bottom lip, drawing the most desperate sounds from her. His fingers were tangling in her braid, unweaving it and letting it fall around them like a fiery curtain. She whimpered when he pulled back to gasp for air. He returned as quick as he left, reintroducing his tongue, sucking and teasing. She was dizzy with emotion. Her body was boneless, a puddle of pleasure.

He moved to her neck, nibbling and doing to most wonderous things. She was writhing and sobbing out a soft, 'ohmygod' repeatedly like a chant. He sucked harder, his hands gripping her hipbones enough to bruise. She arched against him, begging him for more but not knowing exactly what. He was pure bliss. His hot mouth returned to ravish hers. She took a moment to press her forehead against his, panting harshly.

"Lily Evans, you're trying to kill me." He was on her neck again, making her head swing with pleasure. _He_ was trying to kill _her_. She rubbed herself against him, his hardness giving her exactly what she needed. She was crying out his name like a prayer, pleading for him to give her more without directly asking. James didn't remove her bra and put her out of her misery like she wanted. Instead, he kneaded her chest through her shirt, teasing her wanton body more. She wanted him to tug, to suck, to do something. But he only pawed at her chest, leaving her a whimpering mess arching up towards his mouth. He kissed her apologetically. More kisses, deeper, longer kisses. They moaned and moved as one, practically dry humping. Algernon hissed and jumped off the bed as she rolled herself to be on top. Straddling his waist, she leaned down and kissed him soundly, stripping off her long-sleeve shirt over her head. His hands were branding her, fingers kneading her through the sheer lacey bralette. She leaned back to catch her breath, liking how he looked under her all mussed up as he was. His hair was sticking up in all directions, his lips moist and red, and god, those beautiful eyes were watching her like she was a goddess.

Feeling absolutely enthralled, absolutely enflamed, she tugged on her nipples. The lace texture and the toying made her moan and she felt James buck against her. He was breathing hard, lips parted and she felt like the sexiest thing. She twisted and played with her breasts, rubbing her jean-covered crotch against him. She gave him a show, throwing her head back with a whimper as she touched herself.

Unable to resist, James pulled her back into a long, sweet kiss.

"I love your freckles," he was running her tongue against her collarbone now, sucking and kissing her but never going lower. Frustrated, she grabbed him forcibly by the hair and thrust his mouth onto her lace-clad breast. He latched on, mouth hot and wet. Lily mewed with pleasure.

"Yessssssssss…" she hissed, feeling him bite down hard on the nub. He refused to take her bra off, shaking his head when she tried to pull it off. Instead, he returned to nibbling and sucking hard on her nipples through the fabric, never letting one feel too jealous of the other. His hands were massaging her breasts, squeezing them in the most erotic way possible. Her own hands were tangled in his hair, twisting and pulling him closer.

When she unexpectedly came, it was a burst of white hot pleasure that consumed her body. Her eyelids fluttered shut and her body fell forward onto his. James wrapped his arms around her, hugging her rubbery, limp body close. He was still breathing hard and trying to catch his breath as he peppered kisses on her face. He kissed her eyelids, her nose, her cheeks and lips. Her body felt sticky and worn as she felt him untangle himself from her. "James…," she mumbled, cupping his bulge through the flannel pajama bottoms.

"No, no," he said while kissing away the protests on her lips. Tucking her into bed, he got up and stretched his sensationally lean muscles. Her lids were too heavy to stay open. Lily felt like she could sleep for a whole week. Through her lashes, she watched him throw a shirt on and scoop his cat up. Together, the two boys left the room. Lily felt herself dozing off.

She shook herself awake, sharply remembering that her contacts were in. Instead, she forced herself to sit up, feeling the cold air on her moist brassiere go straight through her with a shudder. A low throb was starting to form in her temples. Lily knew she should be embarrassed at being undone so easily, for being so easy too, but she wasn't. Pulling her shirt back on after turning it the right side out, her feet took her gliding to the kitchen. She found herself wrapping her arms around his torso, hugging him from behind as she laid her aching head against his broad back. He was standing against the counter, watching the microwave rotate a plate with two tamales on it.

They stood quietly, not feeling the least bit awkward. She felt like she could fall asleep on him. "This is nice…" she articulated to his expansive shoulder blades. A shrill beep from the microwave made her tense. James grabbed the plate in one hand and a fork from a drawer before wrapping his free arm around her as they moved to the couch. She sat next to him, but he lifted her into his lap too quick to be alarming. She sighed and relaxed into him.

He unwrapped the tamales and tucked into it, raising the fork to feed her a bit. Lily shook her head, making the headache immediately worse as it sloshed her brain around too abruptly. He was talking in a low, calming tone. About trivial things that made her smile softly. He would pause to compliment her between bites, and she found herself being overtaken by his mannerisms again. He was perfect, comforting. This was home.


	5. Bare Your Soul To Me

Author's note: Let me place a 'wet floor' sign, from the waterworks about to break out.

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"I've been waiting for this for a very long time. And well-" he stopped to give her a peck on the tip of her nose, "I don't want to rush you."

Lily thought back to their bedroom escapades, of how she forced him to suck her tits. She didn't mind the rush, her brain grouched as a fierce blush burned her ears and cheeks. James was a sight for sore eyes, as he towered over her to reach for a half-empty bottle of water on the coffee table. She was still tucked against his chest, cuddling to hide her hideously pink face.

"I've liked you for a very….long time too," came her indistinguishable whisper up against his throat. She vibrated as he let a long chuckle out until he was wheezing from laughter.

"Lily, you're the biggest dork. I knew the moment you realized you had a crush on me, did you know that? You have the most expressive eyes." He tilted her head upwards to steal another kiss from her lips. "God, it's so vivid in my mind. I remember it like yesterday, probably because I've replayed it like a million times in my dreams. Sirius, that fucker, he probably memorized it too from how much I talked about it." James was smiling broadly, with a far away look in his eyes. "You've always hated me though, even though you were definitely attracted to me. Why?"

She thought back trying to remember when exactly she first fell for James, not identifying that key memory he seemed so wistful of. Honestly, she couldn't recall when she realized she liked him. Rather, she was like a lobster who hadn't realized the temperature was boiling until it had already been cooked in its bath. Lily scrunched her face up as she tasted her reply slowly.

"Ah, well I always thought you were a bit of a douche-no offense, I mean. Sev disliked you and it sort of rubbed off and you kept picking on me. And Sirius was always watching me weird and…Idunno. I finally asked Remus about why Severus and you hated each other and well, apparently you were being…you made fun of me?" Her voice was getting quieter until she ended her roundabout answer barely audible.

He was still smiling at her, lopsidedly, as he brushed her hair behind her ear. "I'm sorry I made things so difficult. Can I try to explain?" She bit on her bottom lip nervously, unsure as to whether she wanted to hear his perspective. I mean, she did, but she didn't. Finally after some deliberation, she gave a hesitant nod.

"SOOooOOoo….Fuck, where do I even start?" He pushed his glasses further up his nose. She noted that this was definitely an anxious gesture, having caught it a few times.

"I liked you the moment I laid eyes on you. You were moving in, wearing the prettiest dress and your hair was all up in a fancy knot…like earlier actually. And god, you were grinning and laughing and just radiant. I spotted you from my window….You and Snivellus were sharing the load of a very large box. Honestly, I watched you like some sort of stalker and Sirius told me to go help, but I was transfixed and too self-conscious to greet you. You were like, idunno, glistening. The sun was shining on your hair and your dress and I remember thinking you were the most stunning woman I'd ever seen." He was fidgeting with her clammy fingers, refusing to meet her eyes the entire time. Lily's poor heart couldn't handle this. It was like some sort of bizarre dream sequence.

"I ended up coming down to help but only after I made Sirius spy in the lobby…to make sure you were gone. I asked Snape what mad voodoo he had done to get a catch like you, and well, he flipped the fuck out on me. Accosted me loudly, real protective-and that's admirable in hindsight, the loyalty and stuff…but at the time, it pissed me the hell off. I think I may have pushed him against the wall. It's been so many years and I was way too preoccupied with making sure you weren't coming back down the hall. I can't remember what we else said to each other…..What else? Sirius has always known I like you. That's why he's been such a shit. I didn't realize he was creeping you out. He never said anything to you, did he?" Lily shook her head and he let out a gusty sigh in relief.

"Ah, as for well, teasing you…I wasn't trying to be mean. I swear. It's just so hard to talk to you because every time we saw each other you were always glaring at me. I thought of it more like….flirting, yeah? The bickering, I mean. You blush so lovely and you barely gave me the time of day. I didn't know how to get your attention I guess, without putting on some bravado for your next barrage of insults. I tried to tone it down a lot. Not sure you could tell…." Lily interrupted him to point out that she had noticed and was really thankful he had, because it was during her father's chemotherapy. "Yeah, you always looked so sad and tired."

Lily had untucked herself from him and was laying against the opposite side of the couch now. James took off one of her socks and massaged her toes individually.

"I tried to forget you-when you left, it was like….I didn't realize 'til then, yaknow? That I was so far gone for you. And we barely knew each other." He pressed the perfect spot on her heel that emitted a deep groan from her. "I didn't know at the time, but it coincides with your dad's…passing. I guess you went back home. I missed you terribly. I ended up going to South Africa, with my mom, to get away from it all. I couldn't hide from my feelings for you though. Snape was a right asshole whenever I tried asking for your number." His hands were so big and warm, his voice a soothing lullaby against her raging migraine. "You came back after a while, and things had changed. You were….more twitchy? You're still a flighty little thing, but you were-idunno, different. Still my Lily, but not. Talking to you at the café really just made the pieces click in place, about what happened."

"Anxiety disorder," Lily admitted, "…I was having really bad panic attacks and sometimes I'd get so embarrassed around you that they would accidentally be triggered…." She broke off to mumble something like 'I suck at coping' into her hands as she let her hair shield her.

"I moved back home to be with my family. It was really difficult-," she was finally going to share her burden. It felt right to open up to James. "Enrique-he, well, he stopped eating, and Mama, she was constantly crying. I didn't know how to take care for a baby. I-it was the worst time." She paused to let out a shuddered breath. "They let me swap my classes and I taught nights instead. I barely slept, all our money went to paying off bills and god-I had to arrange the funeral. And, and Petunia refused to come, and _it was so bad_ , James." She wiped a few loose tears with the back of her hand, not realizing they had started coming out. "Severus was never around when I came back to live with him. He's never around anymore, just always cooped up in his room or working. I was so alone. It was like months on autopilot, just surviving. My research hit a roadblock, I barely had money for food to spare once I paid for all my medication. I tried to be there for my family, but it was so _so_ overwhelming." His face was so compassionate, as he leaned forward to brush his lips against her cheek.

"You don't have to be alone anymore, Lilyflower," he shifted forward, positioning himself between her legs, "If you'll have me." They kissed a soft, messy jumble. Lily's tears were wet on his lips and she could taste his empathy. "Hey, hey now," his thumbs were wiping the droplets that slithered down, "Don't cry…shhhh, it's okay love. I've got you." He held her until she was barely sniffling anymore, her exhaustion winning over. She let him hug her close, his warmth defrosting her soul.


	6. Panic Station!

Author's note: Drop me a review if you want a one-shot from James' POV about the moment he realized Lily fell for him. I'm already daydreaming it up, but only if people are genuinely interested in that. Anyway, back to the story!

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James left her to watch TV as he ran next door to grab her contacts case and glasses. It had her stressed out, planting a high-strung seed of worry in her backbone because she kept wondering if she should trust him not to peek in her bedroom. Taking a leap of faith, she let him go and was surprised at how quick he came back. Surely, it only made sense that he had enough time to pop into her bathroom in the short time he was gone. Her body was like a rollercoaster, being quelled and triggered repeatedly since she had first knocked on their door.

When he came back, he was grinning triumphantly, "Was all that gel Snivellus'? No wonder his hair's so damn greasy!" He was laughing as he placed the items upon the coffee table near the empty plate that held the tamale husk. Lily was frowning though, trying to see how best to defend her closest friend. There wasn't any need for them to keep this immaturity up, given that they would be seeing each other more often. Hopefully.

"Is it….okay if you just-I guess I'm asking if you can….not call him that name." She cleared her throat nervously, hoping he wouldn't stop liking her or get mad. She hated fighting with people. But she would, if she had to. He looked like he sucked on a lemon, but only for a brief moment before he sat down heavily on the couch beside her.

"Fair enough," he agreed while nodding to himself, making her heart soar that he was willing to put their past aside on her behalf. She took the moment to avoid any awkwardness by asking for the bathroom, knowing where it was based on her own apartment layout but trying to escape. She practically scampered away with her tail between her legs to avoid her pouty Potter.

Lily had to stand her ground on this though, torn between feeling like she wanted to apologize for upsetting her maybe-boyfriend and knowing she owed it to herself to honor the loyalty she felt for her roommate. Lily cleaned up the dampness in her underwear, almost forgetting that James had literally brought her to an orgasm within the last hour. It made her weary and feel worse that she had stood up for Severus. Fiddling with removing her contacts, she chose to ignore the ache in her heart. 'Lily Evans defends her friends', she reaffirmed to the bespectacled reflection in the mirror.

James was all smiles when she came out from the bathroom, kissing her soundly as he whirled her around in the kitchen. He was swaying with her, room silent unless you considered a mattress commercial to be musical. They spun and laughed, slow-dancing like a pair of lunatics. Things were going to be okay.

"I thought maybe I was visited by your evil twin this morning. Or a succubus…These glasses make you look like-," he tilted his head down to bump her plastic frames against the side of his own wire ones, "-like my naughtiest fantasies, Professor Evans." She shook with laughter, lips pressed to his. He swallowed her mirth-filled giggles. She especially enjoying when he dipped her low to swoop in for another peck. James had the ability to quell her concerns so easily, to wash her alight with so much emotion while simultaneously soothing her soul. They talked about random things as they twirled. He told her he was glad she wasn't sick anymore, and she wryly realized he was right. Magic soup, they decided. She asked him if they were _a thing_ when he finally stopped trying to teach her to do a Box Step waltz. She'd bumped her elbow into the countertop and was grumpily icing it with a frozen bag of pizza rolls.

"What sort of _thing_? Neighbors?...Manhattanites?...Humans?..." He was sitting on the barstool now, spinning around like a child. She liked how carefree he always seemed. Her polar opposite. "Lily, my darling dearest, _yes_. Shit, do you have any idea how badly I've wanted you to be my girlfriend? Damn, yes." She plopped the bag over her face, hiding her face to cool the flaming blush. When she finally took the pizza rolls package off, he was madly mashing at his phone screen. He hopped up and came over, making her squint with suspicion as he approached her like a viper. She could feel anxiety starting to rear its ugly head again even though it was completely uncalled for. She tried to grab it and shove it back into the little metal box in her brain.

"Take a selfie with me. Actually, let's take ten." He was throwing his arms around her now, resting his bony chin to dig into where her shoulder met her neck. She rolled her eyes happily and pressed an exaggerated smooch against his cheek as he made a duckface into the camera. He was always laughing, she thought with a grin of her own. He was like sunshine. James tucked the phone in the back pocket of his flannel pajamas and leaned in to give her an authentic, patient kiss as he cupped her face in both hands. Her heartrate was like a yo-yo, with his touch causing her to go haywire internally and fizzling out to a glow of unresolved tension. Too much had happened today to her body. She felt exhausted and irritable.

"What, not going to scrapbook that one too?" She said, her eyes shooting him a thin dart of frustration that was growing. He snickered and moved to pin her against the bar, his chest firmly against hers. She was going to bruise, she thought dizzily, as he went in to attack her neck. His hands were twisted in her hair, then they were on her hips, and then lifting the hem of her skirt. He was so touchy, so affectionate. She was feeling a tinge of claustrophobia beginning to set in. Her breathing was heavy. Hands like fire trailed up her stomach, as he nipped at her earlobe. The hand that wasn't tangled in her hair moved to text someone. While somehow multi-tasking at molesting her neck, he was attaching a picture of her with a bag of pepperoni pizza rolls on her face. She squawked and tried to snatch his phone, but he was so tall that he merely held it out of her reach. When she gave up jumping like an idiot, he tilted the screen down to let her see him sending it in a group chat. _Ohfuckinggod_ , she groaned visibly, trying to smother the prickle of anxiety growing in her belly. This man was a child. He was infuriating and embarrassing her like a game.

He sent the duckface picture they had just taken as well, trying to stop her complaints with his mouth on hers. Her body was ticking like a bomb, from being showcased like a trophy he had won. She felt used, ashamed of herself. He whooped loudly as Remus, then Sirius, sent him a slew of emojis in response. Peter sent him a 'congrats!'. Lily smacked his chest when he pointed out that ' _Life Giver 1'_ was typing a response. She tried to control the stiff, porcelain smile she wore. A few seconds passed and _Life Giver 2_ , his dad apparently, had replied with a picture of an entire boardroom of fancily-dressed people giving him large smiles and thumbs-ups with the whiteboard behind them having "ABOUT DAMN TIME" scrawled on it. 1….She choked a horrible sound, wanting to vomit from embarrassment.

Her false smile shattered into a thousand pieces. She couldn't bear it. She knew maybe she was jumping to conclusions, but her heart was pounding in her veins. 1…2…The pizza rolls she had been death-gripping fell to the ground dully with an echo. She tried fleeing, tugging away from him, but he wouldn't let her. Stiff fingers were clawing at her, trying to stop the oncoming flood. Her ears were buzzing like wasps were trapped inside and she felt like her migraine was making her dizzy from the heat of her face.

3…..4….She tried pushing him away, his hands too frantic. She could feel everything slow down, thudding to the drumbeat of her pulse. It rushed, like the sound of a faucet draining. Severus was _right about him_. Her chest was tight, eyes filling with tears as she tried to gasp in mouthfuls of air. Her lungs felt like they had collapsed; she was hyperventilating as she dropped to her knees against the kitchen tiles. She was searing. 1….2…The impact shattered her body into awareness with painful jostle, tipping the nausea she was trying to swallow down. He had won-tamed the shrew.

Head swinging, she desperately ripped herself from James' nervous fingers. His mouth was moving hysterically, she barely made out behind her tear-streaked glasses. Her skin was burning up like she'd been doused in poison, she faintly noted, as the terrible pinpricks covered her flesh with synchronous stabbing. His concerned face hovered close to hers, turning black when she forced shut her eyes to try to control her tears. 1..…..2…..3…..4…

…..5…..

…..6…7…

….8…9…

….10!

Ragged breathing was the first thing she heard. It counted with her, sending sharp tugs on her lungs. She swallowed and swallowed. Air burned and filled her. Her gasps slowed over time, her hand coming to push her glasses up. She angrily wiped the tears off her face. Embarrassedly, she noted James was holding her on the floor, awkwardly trying to smooth her hair back and blow her face. Lily wiped her nose with the back of her hand, feeling ashamed. Feeling too raw. Too much had happened too soon. She stared at him emotionlessly on the outside, too fragile like ice on a pond, trying to ignore the fact that salty droplets were still gathering and trickling down the sides of her face. "Let me _go_ ," she begged-no, ordered, in a breathless croak. Her throat was tight. Knees sore, they cracked loudly as she tried standing up.

He looked up at her like she was contagious. His own breathing was fast, his eyes full moons.

Now that he had seen her mental illness, he was repulsed.

Now that he had bragged that he slept with her, he was finished.

Lily fled his apartment. Her only glance backwards showed he hadn't moved. His head was in his hands and he was staring at the shattered phone screen on the floor beside him. Lily bit back the sob that threatened to escape its cages. She let them out into her pillow when she was alone. She was safe from hurt, cocooned.


	7. Follow Me Home

Author's note: Lily's annoying, fair enough. I bet some of you are put off by her blatant helplessness. But there's strength in admitting your weaknesses, in taking medications and trying to survive each day. Some days are harder than others and it's okay to reach out to those you love the most.

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Lily had taken a cab to the train station later that day, after crying herself exhausted by 4pm. Her body was like a coil, ready to burst from tension the entire time. She fidgeted the entire time, feeling particularly embarrassed when a businessman shifted away from her like she was a junkie on the train. She had only her purse with her, for once succumbing to impulsiveness. The purse was her lifeline as it contained her phone, some change, and medications. She could live out that small bag in her lap. She originally intended to get a hotel, far far away from James' incessant hammering on the door. In the end, she decided to surprise her family with an impromptu visit, maybe for the entire weekend. She regretted the last two days, wishing she hadn't ever taken those damned days off. Her nails were jagged from jittery gnawing, her hair too frizzed and eyes too distant. But she knew how to get home by heart, having done it daily during her dad's sickest times. It's like muscle memory, she quipped mentally, trying to put pressure on her temples to ease the ache.

Her mother was currently plaiting her hair, scraping her fingernails through a particularly tight knot. She had caused quite a hubbub, throwing herself into her mama's arms and breaking down. Rosalie and Enrique were napping on the sofa, stirring awake to the commotion. It was all hugs and tears. Lily had finally settled down, her head on her mama's lap as her brother's head laid her own lap. Rosie was sleeping in her play crib, away from the weird sadness train they had created. Lily griped about her panic attack, finally letting her family bear witness to the extent of her inability to pull herself together. Instead of judging, they admitted their own struggles they had tried hiding from her. They didn't want to distract her, to burden her more. She held her brother close, as he admitted he had not recovered from his eating disorder and was getting worse. Their mama let tears soak Lily's hair, as she absorbed the ache that came from feeling like she had failed her beautiful kids. Together, they were strong, airing out the plague that cancer had left behind.

Lily eventually texted Severus, letting him know she had gone home for the weekend and that she was turning her phone off for some R&R. They went out to dinner that night. Lily had to wear one of her mother's old dresses because the other clothes were too baggy and her brother was skinnier than her. They ate at a small Italian restaurant that was famous for their homemade perogies even though they sold no other Polish items on the menu. As Lily fed her baby sister some mashed pasta bits, they prattled on about happier thoughts. Most of the time was spent reminiscing about their father's love of the beach and Elvis. They laughed hard when they remembered the time they had gone to the shore and her papa swore he'd seen a shark but it turned out to be an old flip-flop bobbing on the waves. Everyone was pissed at him because the lifeguards had shut the beach down to investigate, losing about 4 hours of sunlight for a shoe.

It was a memorable time because Lily, poor pale-skinned Lily, had sunburnt so badly after falling asleep on her towel as they waited for the waters to be safe. The sun had shifted over time to eventually imprint the perfect silhouette of Enrique's phone on her thigh. He had placed it there, in the shade with her, to guard from thieves as he had gotten too bored sitting down and left to prowl the boardwalk for boys to chat up. He came back to get blamed for branding her with a perfect creamy brick shape against the most putrid red flesh. Ah, good times. Bad times, but good times nonetheless. Her throat was raw from laughing by the time they had paid the bill and gotten up to leave. Her family, her beautiful family. They were perfect and strange and not ashamed of her.

They drove back in relative silence, with the softest jazz playing on the car stereo for a sleeping Rosalie. Enrique was slumped beside his sister, looking more related than ever with their dark caramel skin and curly charcoal hair. His head was slumped on Rosie's car seat as he drooled a bit, making Lily smile fondly as she occasionally glanced back when her mama would turn slightly too sharply. She was exhausted too. She kept blinking to rewet the dry, tired eyes. They had run a marathon in the last couple days with the sheer amount of crying she'd done. Her mama was humming along to the soft instrumentals, with a tired but contented air about her. They rode in peace, pulling onto their street slowly. It was late now, an hour 'til midnight, and the moon slept low with the fog. Lily's childhood house passed her by. They pulled into the driveway, her eyes still fixed on the house she had little memories of. That was the house where Petunia was happy. That was where her birth parents wanted her to grow up. Forlorn, she climbed out the car and unbuckled her sister from the car seat, making careful not to wake her.

She carried her to the porch with tender steps, her eyes drifting close.

"Lily," her mom started.

She gasped as well, stopping so suddenly that Enrique stepped on her heel as he rammed into her back.

"Oi, what the fu-," he hissed, looking around more alert yet confused from grogginess. He made a sound in his throat. Oh.

 _Oh_ , indeed.

James Potter was asleep on their porch swing, draped with a throw her mama had probably knitted years ago.

Lily swallowed the stone in her throat, feeling her chicken ravioli from earlier starting to come up.

Her mother was prodding at him, trying not to startle him too much. She watched him blink himself awake, stepping behind Enrique's tall frame to sink out of sight. Too bad he was thin like a rail, doing nothing to hide her. Instead, her brother grabbed her hand and dragged her back to the car, always on the same wavelength. They stood in silence, mood too heavy, as she rocked Rosie fussily.

James was talking in a voice too low with her mama, both of them looking her way occasionally. She was pressing her face into her sister's silky curls, inhaling the scent of baby powder. She tried not to wonder why he was here, instead fixating on the rock Enrique was trying to balance on his foot like a hacky-sack.

She had to give it to him though. James, obviously, not Enrique. He was devastatingly handsome. His jaw was clenched, looking like it was cut from marble by a renaissance sculptor. His hair was black like the night around them, but his eyes were so bright, like the moon above. His wirey glasses would glint when the streetlight caught it at the right angle, drawing her eye back like a fish to a lure. He was running his hand through his hair again. Lily grumbled at the unfairness causing her brother to glance at her with a raised brow.

"Sis, you sure know how to pick 'em," he drawled which brought a small smile to her lips. "If only the boys at school looked like _that_." She peered at James with fresher eyes. He was standing up, his hands smoothing down the rumpled dress shirt. It was a nice shirt, she had to admit, noting how the dark blue managed to make his skin look flawless in the night. But Lily had seen him with no shirt, and hell, nothing compared. He was wearing jeans, regular fitted blue jeans. Nothing like Sirius' torn, studded ones that he always paraded around in. His sneakers were just…sneakers. She wanted to find him normal, but he managed to look modest, humble, and too attractive for her health and wellbeing. Their mother was motioning for them to come back from the driveway, but Lily wanted to do nothing but jump in the car and somehow go back in time to before their family night ended.

"Be brave, Lilypad," whispered Enrique as he took her hand in his and dragged her to the porch. She felt exposed, letting him see her true home, where so much had happened. But she didn't have a choice as their mama was already ushering him inside. He kept looking back at her with the saddest eyes, but Lily knew her puppy eyes were far superior. Greener. But his were technically prettier, with all their depth and color.

They sat down in the living room, with her mother and him sharing the loveseat and Enrique squashed against her on the recliner as he tried perching on the arm piece. Rosalie's tiny body was sprawled on the largest couch, with Lily tucking pillows around her to create a moat to prevent her from rolling off. She could feel James' eyes burning into the back of her skull the entire time. And so when she sat with her brother, she tried tucking her face into his scrawny back. James was picking at the fringe of a throw pillow, his eyes lingering on the pictures hung on the wall. Petunia's scowling mug was the sole image in a gaudy white frame, clashing with the décor. She had picked it and said that she deserved to stand out in their house. The walls were covered with images of their history. One shelf held all Enrique's dance trophies. The shelf below it held Lily's Bachelor's and Master's diplomas. Smiling faces stared back at her from the walls around them. Even her Papa's sweet moustache smiles were in a few frames. Lily didn't know if she could cope with seeing her father look so alive every day like this. It was a terrible reminder of what was now gone. Feeling overcome with nerves, with sorrow too, she pushed herself out of her seat and ran up the stairs. Her mother was trying to distract James with some chai tea. Why did he follow her home? How did he know where she lived?

She hadn't been to her old bedroom in so long. This was where her and Petunia had still been sisters, best friends. The walls were a cotton candy pink and there was a glossy white chandelier hanging in the middle of the room. Two twin beds were on opposite sides of the room in immaculate sheets, as if her mother still thought they were children. Not wanting to wonder if her mother's stuck-in-the-past coping mechanisms were healthy, she threw herself onto her old bed and burrowed under the covers. Today was the most never-ending day in history. Lily felt like she'd aged a decade since waking up this morning with the sprightly optimism of someone unlike the person she currently was harboring inside. What an exhausting day. Why had there been so many ups-and-downs? She stared at the glow-in-the-dark stars stuck to her ceiling, counting them until she dozed off, glasses askew on her face.

Lily woke to the smell of bacon assaulting her. 'Wow, I can't believe I slept through the night.' She knew that sweet syrupy pancakes would follow, drizzled in goat's milk caramel sauce her mama always made when she visited. Lily's stomach was rampaging in agony from nostalgia. She refused to listen, knowing James might still be downstairs and she looked like roadkill. It took a shower and two 15-minute pep talks in the mirror for her to finally wander downstairs. She heard James' honey-sweet chuckle from the kitchen, vibrating her skin cells into goosebumps. She wanted to swoon, imagining her not-boyfriend-boyfriend and family getting along so swimmingly. She touched a hand to a framed picture of her father as she passed through the living room. 'Give me strength', her mind prayed if he was watching upon her. She brushed the wet hair plastered to her shoulders backwards, letting it soak the fabric of her hoodie rather than drip down her face like she was from The Grudge. Biting her lip, she skittishly entered the kitchen and braced herself for impact.

"Hija, that was very rude last night. The poor boy came all the way down here for you and you just ran off. Shame, shame." She tapped Lily lightly on her head with a wooden pot spoon, getting pancake batter in her hair and causing her to squeal indignantly and flee from her mama's arm range. That _poor boy_ was looking at her with a lopsided grin as he sat at her kitchen table looking too handsome to be real. Poor boy, my ass. He had seduced them with his boyishly good looks. Her own traitorous family. She picked the batter out her hair, then meticulously dug the remains from under her nails trying to ignore the way her heart flipped when he smiled at her like that. Enrique was sitting next to him and there was a large pile of pancakes split between them. A mason jar filled with warmed caramel sat there too, gathering gloopy drops onto the plastic tablecloth. Her stomach complained grouchily. Rosie was strapped to her high chair, eating small chunks of banana. The homeliness of the scene made her stomach churn uncomfortably. James looked like he had a great sleep unlike her own fitful, restless one. She had prematurely taken her anxiety medication today, in case of stress. She sat down tentatively next to the empty seat beside her brother, glad she didn't have to be too close to James.

Her mother was singing under her breath in Spanish, something she only did when she had people to coddle. Something warm was pooling in her belly, like contentment maybe. Mama use to sing all the time for them. James was watching her as he chatted with her brother. She wondered if she looked like a ghost, all translucent and drained. Strung out like an addict.

Her mother placed a plate of bacon in-front of her and Lily pinched Enrique's bicep when he tried stealing it from her. He was so dramatic, cursing in Spanish that she'd bruised him as he waved his arm to show anyone who would look. James and her shared the thinnest smile, mocking his antics before she quickly caught herself and pulled her hood up to burrow. She was sitting cross-legged in her seat, nibbling at a piece of bacon she dunked in the caramel jar. Enrique was loudly complaining that she was ruining the flavor with her blasphemous behavior. Rosie was hollering too, adding to more chaos in the kitchen. Between the singing, the yelling and cooing, and the sizzling bacon on the stove, she found a migraine beginning to form. Lily rested her forehead directly onto the table, huffing when her mother told her to stop moping. She pulled the drawstrings so tight that the hoodie completely consumed her face.

"Yo, you look like a polar bear's butthole," said her brother, braying like the jackass he was. "S'all, idunno?….Puckered!" His laughter continued to boom around her, muffled by fabric of her hood. She looked up and saw him still chortling with a toothy grin, giving her a perfect view of his half-chewed food. Face red, she loosened the tension on the strings to stick her tongue out and glare. James was smiling into his plate, looking too damn sexy because Enrique's shirt he'd borrowed was too tight. She could feel the vibrations of a full house, especially James' deep voice drowning her in silk. She covered her head with her arms, telling them they were giving her a migraine. Her hands did little to put ample pressure on her tender, pulsating skull. The kitchen did start to calm down as they were being sensitive of the noise they were making, except for Rosie who continued to clang her spoon and giggle. Lily felt bad because the morning had felt so _normal_ and she had to go ruin it for them. Enrique was stage-whispering that her migraines were from the medication and that she was hypersensitive to stimuli and could pass out from too much. "Duntalkboutit," she mumbled into her white sweatshirt. "She also has panic attacks too, but you know that now, don't you?" Her brother's such a fucking asshole, she thought bitterly. She didn't want to discuss this. Not now and definitely not ever. James hummed a noise in response, causing her to lift her head up a smidge. He caught her looking and she quickly turned away.

Her cheek was pressed against an empty plate as she enjoyed the ceramic coldness. Someone was rubbing her back now with soothing circles and then her head through the lumpy fabric of her sweatshirt hood. She made a happy groan when the fingers reached her temples. Her head tipped back a bit and she looked into the kind face of James Potter. Her eyebrows scrunched up and her shoulders tensed, but he wasn't deterred. Instead, he continued to stand behind the chair and massage her brain. It felt good enough to make her toes curl. He was reaching over her now, so close that she could smell that cinnamon scent of his. His hand came back with a slice of bacon hoovering at her mouth. She shook her head 'no' and he frowned before taking a bite himself. Such straight pearly teeth, he could have been the son of dentists. Enrique distracted them from a very intimate moment in which Lily was enraptured as she watched his mouth work. His Adam's apple bobbed as he swallowed, and she found herself concerned at whatever new voyeuristic fetish she had acquired for him. Her brother was making kissy faces from behind James, gesturing with enough tongue that her mother had to drag him out the kitchen as she went to clean up Rosalie.

They were alone now. The hand not covered in bacon grease settled on the nape of her neck to rub out the tension. James' other hand was dipping a strip of bacon in caramel and trying to feed her again. She took a bite, worried that she looked like a llama at a petting zoo reaching for grass. Did she forgive him for his actions? Were there actions that required her forgiveness in the first place?

His strong fingers worked a knot until she let out a whimper. Her eyes fluttered closed and she let the hood fall down to give him better access to her neck. His hands were gentle, tentative, when they returned to her hair. There was something in the air and it was indescribable.

"Hey there," he crooned above a whisper when she finally looked up at him. He tilted the chair around so that she wasn't facing the table anymore. Instead, he pulled up the chair Enrique was sitting in earlier so that their knees touched. Lily felt frightened by her feelings and ashamed of all that happened.

"M'sorry I broke your phone…," she muttered, disliking how caring and patient his face looked.

"Lily, are you-," he was reaching to hold her hands tightly in his, "Are you fucking kidding me? You took off-after, well you nearly gave me a heart attack and then you left. I've never felt so helpless. So lost. Why-shit, I didn't mean to stress you out. I _promised_ I'd take it slow for you. I'm so, _so_ sorry, Lily."

He let out a shuddered breath that gusted the sweetest pancakes at her, "I don't give a shit about the phone! I can't believe-god, you had me so worried! I kept coming by to check on you-it's okay that you didn't want to talk. And then Snape, fucking Snape-said you were gone. Begged him to tell me where. Fuck, do you have any idea how guilty I felt? I mean, I literally _begged Snape_. You're been driving me fucking crazy-just fucking mad, you're going to give me grey hairs!" He broke off to give a harsh laugh.

"Lily, I'm so sorry for not realizing you were being triggered with a panic attack. I didn't mean to come on so strong. Your mom said I overwhelmed you-I feel like a fucking dick. You've got so much going on and I-," She broke off the frenzied rambling with a firm close-lipped kiss on his mouth. Mostly it missed, but she didn't mind. He was watching her warily.

"I overreacted….." He was shaking his head now, not letting her have that excuse.

"You have an _anxiety_ _disorder_ , Lily. It's not just an overreaction. This was bad. It was so bad. I'm sorry for putting you through that, love. You look really worn out." She let him hug her, her whole body humming as she soaked in his warmth. Swooning didn't even begin to describe what she felt when he called her 'love'.

"We'll have to communicate more. I need to know the signs and you need to tell me when to back off. No, stop hiding your face, you dork." He was trying to coax her out from her bundle in his arms. His lips tasted like caramel, molten sweetness making her float. She was already feeling the synthetic calm that came from her tranquilizer medicine and the lethal dosage was James' kisses. He tasted like breakfast and family and safety. Too breathless and aroused, she broke away.

"We're going to have to talk, fine-but not right now. Later." She got up to pack away the leftovers and clear the table.


	8. Dip Me in Caramel

Author's note: Ah, it's been a while since I updated two months ago. I graduated, that's done finally. And I got married after being with my hubs for 6 years and got back from our honeymoon this past weekend.

Reviews welcome and respected. To those who have suffered through side effects of mental/chronic illness medications, I am not an expert in psychiatry and keep in mind that cases are patient-specific, so I may not necessarily portray Lily's reaction to her pills as you have experienced (specifically lowered inhibition, mood swings, migraines, drowsiness, etc.)

Lastly, thank you again to those who have commented and followed. You really urged me to continue the story that I had pushed to the backburner and I won't let you down. THIS IS A LEMON/SMUT CHAPTER so please remember the MATURE rating!

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Later came sooner than she expected. It was already 10am when Lily began washing the dishes, busying herself and buying time simultaneously. Whenever she peeked a glance back at James, he remained casually lounged in his wooden chair, tipped back on the hind legs. He was balancing an origami swan made from paper napkin on the point of his nose. Sweet man, kindly giving her time. She knew that deep down because she could see him in the reflection of the above-range microwave door. He was watching her thirstily like a hawk with an intensity that had her throat dry whenever he thought she wasn't looking. She dutifully scrubbed the pot of sticky caramel with scalding water that left her hands stinging.

"Don't you have work? I feel like I've been taking up all your time lately…" She asked him quietly, afraid to rattle her brain from the vibrations of her too-shrill voice.

"Nah, it's really flexible since Mom's my boss," he had dropped the chair to rest on all four legs with a dull thud. She could hear his soft steps padding towards her on the tile, the only other sounds in the room being a steady stream of water in the sink and light breathing. Lily felt his arms wrap around her waist and her body stood ramrod, the medications coursing into action as she knew it would.

She sighed softly, feeling him nuzzle his face into her damp hair. No anxious flairs of panic-seeds sprouted, she noted wryly, as his large hands took the dish sponge from her and began scrubbing the inside of a pink sippy cup. He hissed when the tap water came in contact with his skin, quickly fumbling to lower the temperature.

"What do you do, James?" She wanted to hear him talk. His voice was always so calming yet effervescent, so stimulating. She needed to hear him talk to her.

"Well, a little bit of anything I can get my hands on, or whatever comes my way, I guess?" He paused and turned off the faucet, drying a plate with a paisley dish towel. "My family runs the Potter Foundation…I'm not sure if you've heard of it?" He waited for her little head nod before continuing. He was drying her hands now, with the same dish towel, gingerly. "Dad handles the finances like governance standards for accounting at all the different locations. Mostly he does a lot of grant requests, and mom makes site visits-like coordinating the refugee resource network and diversity training and that sort of stuff about making sure each location is supplied and functioning properly. Oversees that the day-to-day operations are managed well. I guess I'm just…marketing mostly, like public relations with awareness events, schmoozing at fundraisers, designing print ads and billboards, one-pagers, and social media campaigns. Nothing special, just messing around on my computer a lot or going to parties." He was blushing now, Lily noticed. It made bubbles of joy fizzle in her blood, to see him so proud of his family's work yet be so humble as he awkwardly down-played his contributions. Somehow he had turned her around into his embrace and since she was neatly tucked against his chest, he was speaking directly to the top of her head. The cold sink pressed sharply against her lower back, but she felt content letting him continue monologuing.

"Sirius likes to join us once in a while-Remember how I said he's basically my brother?" She murmured an affirmative noise, not sure if he was rhetorically asking or not. "Well I love him to death, but he's so goddamn crazy. He worked for us for a long time, since his parents disowned him for being too liberal and sullying their reputation with the posh people. But he's always searching for the next thrill, yaknow?"

Lily was fiddling with the hem of Enrique's too-small shirt that he was wearing. Her fingernails lightly grazed the soft fuzz under his navel, enjoying how James had to clear his throat to continue.

"He wasn't satisfied with helping here, said it didn't feel tangible. He used to organize and manage all our lobbying, because he's got more charisma in his big toe than I have in my entire body..."

Lily gave a loud scoff at that, involuntarily disagreeing with a deep passion.

"I'm serious! Well, _he's_ Sirius." He chuckled and played with the strings on her hoodie mindlessly. "He became the liaison for placing the refugees. That took some major balls." Her fingers were tracing the waistband of his underwear that peeked out from his pants.

James had sounded so profoundly impressed by Sirius' apparent risk-taking but Lily couldn't grasp what he meant. She wasn't stupid at all, but it was so vague and she wasn't necessarily familiar with the inner workings of nonprofits who aided migrants. She had a few members of her church two years ago that she knew that were taking ESL classes after coming over to seek asylum from the political unrest in Venezuela. That's pretty much as far as her exposure had gone, aside from a few news articles.

"Can you, well explain that to me? You make it sound so dangerous but I'm not sure what it entails." Lily was euphoric that her medications were effective enough to make her into a semblance of her put-together, professional self. James tilted his head down to place a chaste kiss on her lips, leaving her to lean back in for another. A few more close-mouthed, dry pecks and she was forgetting what they were discussing. His own fingers had crept up her bare stomach, under the frumpy layers, while the other hand continued to toy with a drawstring cord from her hood. She pressed longer kisses onto his lips, letting them linger with slightly parted lips that she yearned for him to take advantage of.

He didn't take more. Instead, he leaned away and watched her patiently, waiting for her flushed cheeks to return to a normal color. Luckily Lily's breathing hadn't been haggard or rampant, as she felt a sense of control over her entire being that had been missing for weeks. She leaned forward and grabbed him by the shirt before leading him backwards into the chair he was sitting on moments earlier. His bright eyes were luminous with excitement, anticipating her next moves but letting her set the pace.

"Why's it so dangerous, James?" She was on him now, draped like his velvet duvet, as she sat on his lap facing him. Her face was so close she could taste the remains of bacon and caramel on his breath. His glasses were slipping low on his nose, and behind the lens were two wide, dilated eyes. She nudged the wire frames higher onto his nose bridge, smiling at him like she meant no harm. Lowering his defenses so that she could pounce. His Adam's apple bobbed as he swallowed nervously. Good.

"You do so many things James, surely I've been distracting you. And you work so hard." She was leaning forward, whispering words against his earlobe. Her teeth caught the soft flesh there, tugging it deliberately and slowly. He would feel unraveled, like he had torn her apart. She would make him beg like she had. "I'm sorry for running off on you all the time…" came another whispered breath from Lily, her tongue tracing the shell of his ear now.

It was like she was possessed, ravenous for him. So hungry, with the sweet smell of nostalgia and comfort all tangled around her-it made her want to crave him as home too.

"You're such a good man, James." Her mouth was hot as it suckled softly on the skin beneath his earlobe. "Thank you for taking care of me."

"Your parents sound amazing." She was going lower down his neck, enjoying the way goosebumps had raised and his breathing had roughened. "I want to meet them." Her tongue was running along his jaw, enjoying the coarse tickling from his fresh stubble.

"James Potter, changing the world one family at a time." Her lips left dark welts on his neck as her pace increased and she inched closer to his collarbone with more forceful kisses. He tasted like cinnamon.

He was groaning now, as she ran her hands through his hair and continued to whisper words conspiringly and wantonly. Hazel eyes were like liquid, churning with emotion, as they stared into her soul.

"Hardworking." A growled noise escaped his lips as he tilted his head to the side to give her better access. She felt like a vampire, feasting on the best breakfast she'd ever tasted. He never took his eyes off her.

"Patient." He was grinding against her now, finding his control over his body no longer within his means of restraining. Lust was taking over. And she rode it with him.

"Loving." Her tongue was lazily tracking his collarbone, then it caressed the entirety of his neck upwards, enjoying the way he shivered in response. Her heart wasn't racing or choking her with trepidation, rather it hummed with agreeance with her actions, propelling her further and further into this more dangerous version of Lily. The same one that wanted to deliver firm retribution for the undoing James had done to her. The same-but-not-quite Lily that vowed to be a Potter to her soup pot and dry-humped him after jumping his bones. That same-but-different Lily that would forget to wear a bra as she ran on the treadmill across from James in the wee hours of the night that he preferred working out, enjoying the way he would take a break to stretch across from her and they'd watch each other but never make a move. This was the same-but-shinier Lily that fingered herself shamelessly, crying his name into her pillow for years, then would scream at him hours later for being a dick to her.

Lily's fingers crudely tugged his inky hair and he let out another groan and his eyes fluttered closed. She continued to press her hips closer against his. Even in her baggiest outfit, recovering from the worst day ever, James made her feel like Aphrodite. His hands continued to grip either side of the chair under him, knuckles white like driftwood.

" _Finally mine."_ Her mouth was on his within milliseconds of her words, swallowing whatever his response could have been. His tongue battled hers, his body bucking as he fought to restrain himself and let her control their burning. His fingers were like vice grips on her hipbones, guiding her as their bodies rubbed salaciously. Teeth clashed against lips, gasps melded into one, as Lily allowed herself to unleash the passion that had been caged for years behind iron bars wrought from doubt and insecurity.

This was how kissing James should feel, whole without suffocating-rich like chocolate without the bitterness or guilt that came after dessert. His right hand slid into her sweatpants, stilling when he realized she wasn't wearing panties, before settling on cupping and teasing her folds below. They continued kissing, fluid and molten like the collapsed restraint of a volcanic eruption. She drank him in like liquor, growing dizzier and more intoxicated with each moan that escaped her lips.

"-WHAT THE FUCK?!" Enrique's shriek pierced the dense fog of desire that clung to their skin. Lily fell backwards off James' lap in an effort to distance herself from whatever had claimed her seconds prior. Her ass hit the linoleum floor sharply, even though James had fallen forward trying to catch her as well. She pushed him away, prying his fingers off her hoodie.

Lily felt emotionally detached from the panic attack that would have come. Instead, the entire situation occurred in slow-motion, as if she were experiencing an out-of-body astral projection or watching an old monochrome movie without sound. James' breathing was jagged and his ears and face were completely red. Enrique's small frame was hoovering in the corner of her eye, with his hands on his hips but a devious smile, playfully acting as The Overprotective Father™. James rose from the floor, rubbing his kneecaps while glaring at her irritating younger brother. Rosalie's shrill crying started up somewhere a few rooms over, having been startled by the noise, and it gave Lily a means of distraction as she scrambled off the kitchen floor and up to her room. She bolted the lock and sunk into the carpeted floor, shaking like a leaf from adrenaline and something new.

What the sweet hell was _that_?

She could feel the chemical high blanket her as she rode the waves of calm, sitting with her back propped against the door. She rubbed her tailbone, trying to ebb the bruise that would form soon.

She heard his telltale scuffle up the stairs, his footsteps being too slow to be Enrique's hyper pattering. It wasn't her mother either, who floated around the house with the lightest steps. The baby gate made it impossible for it to be Rosie's toddling, so she swallowed the thick saliva in her mouth and drew up the courage to open the door before he could knock. Lily Evans did not back down, not now and not ever. Bravery was not the absence of fear but rather meeting it head-on.

He must have been shocked to see her meet him with such a pleasant smile on her face. He eyed her suspiciously, glancing backwards to make sure no one had followed him. Lily sidestepped and motioned for him to come in. He was looking around curiously now, hands going to investigate picture frames on shelves and other trinkets around her room hoarded from her childhood. She loved how tactile he was. She turned the lock silently, making sure that no one would interrupt them.

He sat on the edge of her bed, his fingers nervously twisting in his lap. She wondered if he could smell her juices on them. He was staring at Petunia's side of the room which was immaculately bland, refusing to make eye-contact with her.

She knew that he was worried he would trigger another panic attack and didn't know how to tread from here. Lily would be the one to take the reins.

"I believe we have some unfinished business, Mr. Potter." She grinned toothily at him, internally cheering when she saw the tension leave his bones and he sagged into a more relaxed James.

His lips were curved and his eyes wide as she stalked towards the bed purposefully. Her fingers plucked his glasses off, setting them down on the side table and doing the same to her own.

"You were telling me about Sirius?" She was so close to him that his nose was touching hers. He looked cross-eyed, making her giggle and lean back. 'We're okay', she tried to reassure him telepathically, 'I'm okay'.

Lily was peeling his shirt off before he had a chance to fight it. Her hoodie and tank top came off too. James was too still, like the cover of a GQ magazine, clashing with the vibrant pink walls. She didn't have a bra on, and he refused to look at her chest. Instead, his eyes remained captivatingly focused on her face, as if memorizing her freckles. She was tugging on his pants now, happy that he complied by raising his hips to help slide them off. She eyed his bulge, feeling like a scientist observing the results of a well-concluded experiment. There was a wet spot on his boxer briefs, no doubt precum gathering from his tip. She'd never seen a real penis yet, aside from porn and the similarly-shaped-but-unrealistically-colored dildos she owned.

And she knew that she was older and it should be embarrassing, but no negative feelings ever came. Instead, she was washed with his heated gaze on her face, thoroughly aroused as she palmed his bulge through the fabric. He grew harder, longer, and his cheeks were flushed. Never once did he indulge in inspecting her body. Maybe he hadn't liked what he saw, or maybe she had nothing new or interesting to offer with her nakedness, but she slipped off her sweatpants anyway.

She was stark naked as she climbed on top of him. His head was sinking into her pillow, his body rigid and unyielding. She exaggerated a pout, liking how his eyes lingered on her lips. "If you're a good boy, I'll let you be on top, 'kay?" He let out a shuddered breath, as if he couldn't believe this was still her. She wondered if he was right, if she was possessed or something. She never imagined being so forward in the bedroom, always preferring vanilla missionary porn. Her hands were inside his underwear and cradling his balls now, enjoying familiarizing herself with the direct weight and warmth. He was biting his lip and his eyes were closed. God, he had such long eyelashes. Like feather dusters.

She untucked his penis slightly, letting the tip nestle on the waistband of his boxer briefs, as she leaned closer to investigate. It looked like a normal penis and it smelled musky like sweat and arousal, and she found herself entirely too fond of the cute mushroom tip. It was something she could see herself licking the rest of her life. She pressed her lips to the little slit, tasting the fluid that gathered there. Given James' hissed breath, she jerked back to see if she'd crossed a line that he hadn't wanted crossed. His eyes were screwed shut, wrinkles on his forehead barely covered by the messy black hair that fell in his face. She mused that he looked like he was in pain, as she took in his clenched fists holding onto her comforter. She'd expected it to be sweet, like him, but it was salty and she smacked her lips obnoxiously.

"You know…" she started to drawl as her hands pulled his underwear down to his knees, "most guys like watching girls give them blowjobs." She licked the head like a lollipop a few times before moving to position herself between his legs. She liked how his legs dangled off her twin-sized bed. It made her feel small and smitten. Lily engulfed as much as possible into her mouth, learning and tasting. She drew upon her years of pornographic education to pleasure him. His eyes were on her she could tell as she looked up through her coppery lashes at him. He had moved to prop himself up on his elbows to watch her, and occasionally he would thrust upwards to meet her mouth. They spent eternity like this, with her between his legs, mouth filled with his thick cock, alternating between sucking and licking and biting and kissing. James was purring her name like a prayer, it was dark and vibrating her body. Eventually her jaw was getting tired, sore like lockjaw after a too-big yawn, and he was getting rabid in his thrusting, gagging her a few times by going too deep. Spit was running down her chin and she couldn't handle how he kept eyeing her like she was Jesus reborn. Lily switched to stroking and pumping, and he spread his legs wider to let her mouth play with his balls. She loved making him unhinged like this, begging her and using her mouth like she had used his. Her fingers played with her throbbing clit and before she could plunge them into her ready pussy, he had abruptly stopped rocking his hips.

"Lily," he breathed out softly. Finally.

"C'm up here." His mouth was on hers, as he pulled her body up his. Her skin felt like silk as it moved against his, enjoying the abrasive chest hair against her nipples as they writhed together in the sheets. She loved him.

"You have a nice penis, James." He chuckled against her mouth.

"Good. It's yours." And he dipped a finger into her for the first time. He was murmuring how wet she was and how badly he wanted her, pushing his index finger deeper and curling it just the way she liked. She loved his baritone voice and how it caressed her and lit her on fire.

She was begging him for more, allowing him to climb on top of her and press another finger in. Her eyes fluttered close and she was building with pressure. Her own fingers reached to stimulate her clit as he continued to finger her deeply. His mouth was devouring her breasts now, tugging aggressively on her nipples and leaving them berry red and sore.

"James…" she was frantically pumping his penis as she grew nearer to her orgasm, his mouth never staying in one area too long, overstimulated her body. When she came, it wasn't as shattering as the first time, but this was like cliff-diving where anticipating tipping over the edge was as delicious as the fall itself.

His hand wrapped around hers as he helped quicken their stroking and he finished soon after on her stomach. His sticky cum glued their bodies together as they hugged in an exhausted mess of bones.

"Love you Lils," he mumbled into her hair, pressing a firm kiss to her forehead, as she snuggled closer. She hummed in response, but her body was too tired to form the words back. She was falling asleep as he cleaned their bodies up using wet wipes from Rosie's baby supplies in the bathroom. She let him prod at her folds methodically, as she grumbled instructions on preventing after-sex infections from residual moisture. So tired.

They ended up spooning nakedly, falling asleep in a lovers' embrace on the tiny bed in her time-capsule bedroom. Talk was for later.


	9. Skateboarding Scars

Author's note: Thank you for the reviews and the most recent one from Guest commenting about xenophobia. I really wish you had an account so I could personally thank you! I really do aim to make this as realistic as possible, while maintaining relevance in our current political climate. I'm honored to be a voice for minorities and that you all are genuinely interested in the plot I'm weaving. I would love longer reviews or any reviews but you don't have to, obviously. Thanks again all, for the favorites and follows.

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She woke before him and softly detached herself from his warmth. James rolled over and didn't notice his missing pillow companion.

Lily made her way to the shower, wearing a plush microfiber robe nicked from Petunia's chest of drawers. Peaceful was the best way to describe her mind, body, and soul as she soaped herself. She could smell James' fluids, reminiscent of ammonia but not entirely, as she scrubbed away the remains of earlier. They needed to talk more and touch less, Lily decided resolutely. This relationship couldn't be entirely physical, and he did mention they needed more communication.

She was towel-drying her hair when he wandered into the bathroom, his bedraggled hair sticking up in all directions. She raised an eyebrow as he unzipped his pants and she quickly averted her eyes when he started peeing-with her in the room! What the hell?

He cocked a brow causing her to hide her face with the towel in her hand. "You're so gross!" she hissed at him like a startled cobra, trying to scuttle around his body and out the door. He was snickering at her, letting out a full-blown laugh when she tripped over the laundry hamper in her blind attempts to escape the room. She raised her eyes to glare at him fiercely before slipping out the bathroom unscathed.

Enrique later explained to her that it was probably a good thing that James was comfortable around her. And that she'd better get used to it now, since they'd end up living together and one day he'd be stuck spooning her Pepto during raging diarrhea sessions when they were fourty. So I mean, it did make sense to warm up to being casual and open. She was turning over the thoughts in her head, trying to not overreact or make mountains out of mole hills. Enrique was doing a great job weaving her long red hair currently. His thin fingers were digging into her scalp as he plaited two Dutch braids while she fed him Cheetos on the couch. James had gone back to bed after his quick pit stop. Scarred her for life. But not really, if Lily was being entirely honest with herself.

She'd never walked in on her Papa, nor her brother, while they were urinating before. So it was strangely intimate that James was sharing such a…bizarre moment. Lily closed her eyes and let Enrique's gentle hair-tugging lull her into a daydream where she could imagine a chubby little boy being nursed against her chest while she sat on the closed toilet lid, watching her husband shave the stubble on his chin as he leaned over the sink. Their baby would have James' dark, scarily chaotic hair and her green eyes, like two fresh-picked granny smith apples. And they would be comfortable, her in an oversized t-shirt chatting and laughing as they enjoyed a quiet Saturday morning in their equally-quiet suburban home. She would brush her teeth and James would reach out to take their infant from her just long enough for her to rinse her mouth out. Then they'd leave the domestic scene to have a small brunch of stale cereal watching cartoons downstairs on the couch as their baby napped in his arms. It would be so relaxed.

"Hey Ricky, you're really good at that. Planning on being a hairdresser?" James had snuck up on them during her lengthy hallucinations of their future. Ricky, huh, weird. She cringed as Enrique pulled a knot out particularly roughly while he began explaining that he preferred the term hair _hairstyling_ and that he was currently volunteering at a small, strip-mall cosmetology school where he swept up hair offcuts and sometimes the girls would teach him during their downtime. This was all news to her, and she groused bitterly that he was withholding valuable brotherly-sisterly bonding information.

"Lilypads, I need _Me-Time_. Somewhere where I can be myself and not clean baby vomit off my shirt. And school is a prison. Everyone there is worried about exams, and stupid trivial shit." Lily watched her brother pop a handful of Cheetos in his mouth, cheeks filled like a hamster. She was proud he was eating junk food with her-it meant he wasn't hyper-focused on his calorie counting. She licked the orange dust off her fingers and handed James the bag before waiting for her brother to continue.

"Since Dad died, it's like this house is haunted. With memories I guess." He gazed around wistfully-the sadness in his eyes overturned by the comical crunching sounds he made. "We'll never be as happy as we were. Mom has Rosie. Tuna has the Whale. And you've got…" Enrique gestured vaguely in James' direction before snatching the bag of Cheetos back. It crinkled as he fished around for a few pieces, filling the dramatic pause with a more ambient crunching noise.

"-I've got you," Lily tried interrupting to derail the point he was making. He didn't need a partner to rely on. She was his big sister and _she_ was supposed to protect him.

"I've got no one. I'm not ready for a relationship. I feel…This is so weird saying this around you-", Enrique was talking directly to James now, who quickly asked if they needed him to leave. He didn't want to intrude.

"Nah, you're family now. Stuck with us. God, I almost feel bad for you." Her brother was smiling his first real smile since she'd come downstairs. "I feel odd…I guess. Wrong. Like miserable and petty and too…aware of everything and how easily it'll be taken from me." Lily took the bag of Cheetos from him and folded it up to seal freshness, letting him snack with moderation but not to the point he would hate himself afterwards. She wasn't letting him indulge in stress-eating. He leaned up to wipe his orange fingertips on her shirt, groaning loudly when she elbowed him in the sternum for being an idiot.

Lily was chewing on a hang nail, feeling her body ready for the second dosage of medication. She nervously contemplated how to respond to him. He wasn't someone who would accept empty placations or false promises. But he was also just a kid and he didn't need this shit on his plate.

"I know this isn't my place to say…." Enrique rolled his eyes as James started talking, "but I think that I have a few things in regard to that…".

"You don't need permission to speak your mind in this house," Enrique was giving him a half-grin, patiently waiting for him to continue. Somehow those two had really hit it off, what with the new nickname and pancake-sharing and now this.

"Well, I mean…from my own personal experience….," James let out a shuddered, embarrassed laugh as he decided how to continue. "I've seen families torn apart by war, by poverty, and by sickness. You're healing, Ricky." James' hand pushed his glasses up before scowling at the Cheetos residue that covered the lens. He lifted his shirt to clean the glasses, giving Lily a tinge of something in her stomach as she got a peek of the hair below his bellybutton. "We do a lot of grief-counseling at work and I can honestly say that I think you're doing a great job trying to get better. You're trying really hard. Lils, she's told me about your family's struggles-your struggles with….appetite…and-and, I've seen Lily before _and_ after she takes her medicines. Healing takes time and it's so cliché but-" James paused and sent a smile at her. It was sharp like a lightning bolt.

"Just, like when you're a kid learning to skateboard and you fall on your ass a bunch of times and your knees get torn up from the pavement? You treat it and then for a week you're so cautious because your skin feels taut as fuck-like you're about to rip the scab open again?" Lily was biting her bottom lip to hide a fond smile for her idiot boyfriend. He was so…not poetic. But honestly, she really appreciated him trying and it seemed like Enrique was genuinely being touched. Perhaps, maybe, well…What if Enrique needed to be Ricky right now, to be awkwardly and tentatively guided by a sort-of-but-not older brother or father figure? She felt her chest clench in painful protest at the idea of replacing their father. 'Not replacing, not substituting,' she promised herself.

"Right now, your heart is trying to scab up. It's brittle and the wound is too fresh-too deep. I think that you need to let it heal like that knee…and stop blaming yourself for every time it twinges in pain from when you decide to walk too fast or bend too low. You're beating yourself up with guilt from wanting to move on faster, but also you're not ready because it's too soon. And-" James tore off with a haggard breath from his teeth, a harsh sound that made her tense up.

"And it's okay if it gets banged up again in a few months or years, because if you swore off skateboarding after-well, you won't ever know if you could have enjoyed it or been good at it, right?" Lily was staring at him now, taking in all the words he wasn't saying to her. She could hear the undertones of what he was asking of her heart. And it was like he wasn't even speaking to Enrique.

"That….was," Enrique's voice was wobbly and wet, like the sidewalk after a thunderstorm, "Eloquent."

They both shared a chuckle, Enrique's being high-pitched and nervous and James' being low and embarrassed. The pair of boys had flushed cheeks and refused to look at each other. Lily's fingers snaked into her brother's to give it a firm, empathetic squeeze. Both of their hands were soggy from nerves. James was fiddling with the remote controller, balancing it on the tip of his index finger and spinning it. Her mind flashed back to his kitchen origami-balancing skills and she wondered if he did that sort of fidgeting as a nervous tick.

Lily cleared her throat roughly, before standing up. Untangling herself from her brother was a delicate, awkward move because her legs felt like jelly and she missed his bony knees digging into her back.

"Do you…want to visit Dad?" Lily saw the way her brother twitched violently, hugging his lanky limbs to himself and burying his face in them. She noted that they had the same mannerisms when they were hurting, briefly wondering if James saw the similarities as well. When she continued speaking, it was featherlike and fragile. "You've not seen him since…." She could see the jagged shaking of his shoulders that meant he was crying silently. Lily blocked his body from James' view by throwing her little brother into a hug. She scooped his body up, feeling hunched and flailed. But she felt his head bob nervously and she kissed his curly, messy hair. Her own eyes were painfully wide as she tried to keep them from watering. She spared a glance at James, feeling raw and ashamed that he was here to watch them breaking. But his face was blank from judgement and he gave her a small sliver of a smile. Patience and acceptance were in his eyes, and she hid her face in her brother's mop of hair, hugging him closer to her body. Her own heart was clenched painfully, like someone had ripped it out, hung it up to dry and then ironed out the wrinkles, leaving her feeling exactly taut like a scabbed knee.

She ran her nails through her brother's hair, pressing kisses to the top of his forehead that peeked out above his jumbled mess of limbs from the ball he had rolled himself into. This wasn't the sunshine boy she was accustomed to seeing. This was the stricken and crumbled remains left behind. And she kept her arms around him until the shivering stopped, her heart aching to be the glue that kept her baby brother together.


	10. Graveyard Aquarium

Author's note: Angsty. Two chapters posted in one day, wow! Hope you guys like it. Those who review get one half-naked James Potter each. Cheers!

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Eventually they all pulled through. It wasn't as awkward as she expected. No, it was tired and heavy, like the fat clouds dangling above her head. Right now, the trio were walking to the cemetery down the street. It was behind the church she'd gone to her whole life. James' gloved fingers were clutching a plastic bag filled with flowers. He had walked to the grocer a few blocks away, grabbing the items she had listed for him on Enrique's cellphone. His own cell, the one she had damaged, was with Sirius being repaired. She had bashfully asked if she could cover the costs of the screen replacement only for him to steal a sweet kiss from her lips as payment. Lily wondered how obtuse she had to have been to not notice he didn't have his phone the entire time he'd been here. The bouquets were tipping out the bags, being longer than the bag was wide. He had two bags nestled in the crook of his elbow. One had two bouquets of yellow marigolds, looking slightly brownish on the petals from the cold or age. The other bag had the purest white roses in one bouquet, and the other smushed beside it was an assorted, vibrant bouquet of dyed flowers. Enrique was trudging ahead of her, his feet dragging along the asphalt as they walked up the parking lot of the church. His gloved hands were clenched in fists, the left one holding a bag of Swedish Fish. Three scratch-off lottery tickets were lumped and poking out of his coat pocket. They made a weird group. Lily herself was bundled in scarf, hat, and mittens, hugging her body like it would fall to pieces without the grip. They walked towards the wind, letting it whip them in the eyes and dry the tears that wouldn't fall.

James' free hand was pressed against her back, guiding her or keeping her hostage from the situation she wanted to run from. The clouds were full, like her lead stomach and she wondered if it would rain fittingly for their visit. Enrique was sniffling loudly as he opened the rusty metal gate to the backyard cemetery. It wasn't large, but it felt like hours of walking as she trudged through the paths between gravestones.

Lily was glad that she had taken her medicine when James left for the grocery store earlier. Actually, it wasn't so much a grocer as it was a small corner shop-like a gas station but with better hoagies. Her body felt worn, like she was a veteran returning to the battlefield once more. Her feet took her to the furthest corner of the cemetery, Enrique lagging to trail behind her listlessly. She kneeled in front of the gravestone, brushing away the slush of icy mud and decaying weeds. The boys-no, men, stood by her side as she sat on the cold ground. "Hey Eileen…," she whispered. Many things followed, like apologies for Severus being too busy and for not visiting often, and other life updates. She introduced James as her boyfriend, who had been still and blank the entire time, frozen like the ground below her. She wondered if he pitied Severus, or if he was curious.

Enrique handed her the bouquet of assorted flowers stiffly, like a mannequin learning to move. "I know how little color you had in your life…I hope this brightens your day a little." She kissed her mittened hand and touched the gravestone before rising. They didn't look back as they moved silently to the next destination.

Enrique's thin fingers were grasping her elbow painfully, leading her towards the next destination. James' hand was on her back, a calming anchor in this storm of emotion. Sandwiched between the two men, she led them to her parents' graves. They were side-by-side, for eternity. Lily bent forward to clean the graves, but James reached first and did it for her. That was something that shook her heart into a misstep; something was too personal about that simple gesture. Her eyes were huge and dry, and she blinked aggressively to stop the hurt that tinged behind them. The marigolds were placed on her mother's grave, then an identical bouquet on her father's. She told them she loved them in a soft murmur before abruptly walking off to take a breather.

Lily swallowed the bile in her throat as she stared back at Enrique and James. They watched her, like an injured animal about to dart. She noticed how similar-yet-not they were. Both were ungodly tall and skinny, both had the messiest, darkest chocolate hair. And their faces were both solid and ashen, as if they'd died here too. Her heart was flittering in her chest, under all the warm layers she was wearing.

She took a deep mouthful of air and walked away from her parent's graves. That was enough for this visit, enough for this year. She had visited them often throughout her childhood and teenage years. They knew how much she had grieved and grown. Eventually the visits pattered out and came to a puttering halt when she went to college. She still made sure to visit every Christmas Eve, when the lights were strung up in the trees making the cemetery a little less eerie and the congregation's soft singing could be heard in the distance like a balm for her incurable loneliness.

Her head was hurting badly, like the tension had been building up and would burst her brain soon. She could hear the dull thuds of the footsteps of her brother and boyfriend. So far, so good. Not a single tear shed yet. Her parents already knew everything she had to say to them, because she knew they were watching down on her. Hopefully.

Lily licked her chapped lips and walked to her Papa's grave. It was newer, with a granite headstone that shined and mocked her with how fresh it was. She shuffled uncomfortably on her feet, not liking that she hadn't needed to brush away any overgrown grass. Her heart was paining something awful, when she saw the barely wilted flowers that sat there. _Her poor mother_. Lily wished she hadn't come alone and that they had been there to support her. Images flashed in her mind of a broken little Honduran woman bent over in sorrow, sobbing harshly with mucus running down her chin and wailing in Spanish fizzled her nerves. She had only once visited with her mother, a week after the burial. And it was still ripping into her backbone and sawing at her spine.

She swallowed the pocket of hot bile that tasted like the bitterest caramel that was left unattended on the stovetop and burned into nothingness. Her brother was slumped against her, leaning on her physically as if his legs couldn't hold him up. Her own weight was supported by James, as they all held on to a strand of something long gone to keep them upright.

Lily didn't know how much time had passed in silence. Her nose was stinging from the cold and her legs had gone numb. She only heard the moist sniffles of her little brother, whose face was buried into the front of her coat. James was staring at the gravestone, like his mind was left in South Africa when he visited years ago.

Eventually though, Lily found a sense of peace or perhaps mature responsibility to care for her brother. She helped him detangle himself from her, kissing his cheek with a loud, wet sound that broke the mourning. Papa wouldn't want them suffering like this. Lily sat down and began happily chatting with herself, letting her Dad know that Rosie had taken her first steps, that Enrique had gotten his first boyfriend, and that ' _No_ , she was still as pure as the day she was born'. She heard her brother's soggy laughter muffled from his gloves as he wiped his face. He gave her a tentative smile before sitting beside her. James joined them shortly after, robotically gravitating towards Lily's side and attaching himself there.

She talked about trivial things, like the weather and the classes she was teaching. Enrique's soft voice eventually joined in, adding information about his new job and his goals to go to beauty school, 'even though it was obviously ironic that the gay wants to do hair and he wasn't a damn trope'.

James' voice was like hot chocolate, warming her as he introduced himself and talked about how smitten he was with her. The white roses replaced the wilting flowers, and even though they knew that the frost would kill it soon, the sentimentality was there. She hoped her mother would like that they visited, since she'd see the flowers the next time.

Enrique was chattering again, excitedly talking about how his best friend convinced him to branch out to ballroom dancing. Lily leaned into James' embrace, letting out a gust of air that was stuck in her lungs. She _was_ at peace. Not just trying to be strong and hide it for Enrique, like the original interpretation of the feelings within her.

They tore into the Swedish Fish, sharing a few mechanical nibbles with paper-thin smiles. Lily let James feed her one, nibbling thoughtfully before she yanked the bag from Enrique's grasp. She poured half the bag on her father's grave and the two men tensed noticeably.

"What?" Lily let a laugh gurgle up from her, bubbling out the tension from the day. It was strangled and desperate, and a bit chaotic, but Enrique eventually started chuckling again. Even James was smiling at her, even if it was in a concerned manner. She liked the way the corner of his eyes crinkled when he smiled.

"Nice, Lilypads. You know he hates us wasting food." Her brother was grinning at her, finally showing the dimples in his cheeks again and the mischievous fire in his eyes.

"Nahhhh." She dragged it out heartily, feigning nonchalance as she popped another fish into her mouth and chewed thoughtfully. "Sharing is caring, and you know _these are his absolute favorite_."

And Enrique beamed at her, dishing out the lottery tickets and handing one to each of them. It was like the tension from the guitar-string had snapped and they were wobbling on the earth's axis of hysteria.

Lily took off her mitten and used her thumbnail to bear down and scratch for winnings. Enrique handed James a penny and the soft scraping noise filled the silence.

"Look, Dad! Fuck yessss!" Enrique was waving the scratch-off excitedly, scrawny fingers shoving it in her and James' face. A giggle slid out of her mouth before it became something more maniacal. She wondered if it was a blessing, a last gift from him to his son, to sooth over his worried soul and remind him that he was still there with them. Keeping her thoughts to herself, she listened to Enrique ramble about how he couldn't wait to use the $2,500 prize he had won. Lily didn't bother with her earnings of $5, as she knew she hadn't planned on cashing it in. James was smiling and nodding, sending her shy glances that had her blushing against the frosty air.

When they closed the latch of the metal cemetery gate, she glanced at her Papa's grave and grinned at the crimson fishes scattered on the ground. They chatted amicably in low tones on their way back, informing James that when they were younger, their Dad would sneak them off to the store and they'd excitedly share scratch-offs and cherry Coke, hidden away from their Mama's knowing glares. Illegal as minors, but thrilling nonetheless. Enrique vowed to put the money away for savings, in which Lily piped up that he needed to spend it on a damn haircut, which had them bursting out in laughter. James' hand was swinging Lily's between them as they walked, and she felt lighter with every step closer to their house.

Enrique pointed out her childhood home as they passed it, narrating as he jabbed a bony finger, "And this is where Lily got her first kiss!" Her breath hitched as she noticed James' step falter. She dragged him along as they powerwalked past the old house, where Enrique was pointing to the large oak tree with the decrepit picnic table underneath it. The paint was green when she had sat there so long ago, nervously inching towards the toothy pubescent mouth that stole her first kiss. Now the paint was faded brown, green only from the moss that grew over her childhood memories.

She changed the subject, motioning to the backyard shed that they could see had been rusted to shit with broken windows. "Hey, remember when we locked Tuna in there with _the raccoon_?" Lily snickered alongside her brother as he guffawed through the thrilling tale of that one time they locked their sister in with their neighbor's cat and convinced her it was a rabid racoon. It was late at night, too dark for their frantic sister to see the cat, and they'd gotten in so much trouble because Petunia's screeching had woken everyone on the street and cops were called. God, no wonder she left when she did. Lily bit her lip anxiously, fighting a new feeling in her gut, something akin to the slick, slimy tendrils of guilt.

James was smiling through the tale, but somehow, he always was so attuned to Lily. His eyes had that same concerned wrinkling as he snuck glances at her. She fiddled with her mittens, raising it to her mouth to tug on a loose string. Lily didn't speak until they were in their living room, preferring to let Enrique blather on as they made their way home. James watched her curiously, she could tell from her peripheral vision, but she kept her head down so that she wouldn't have to look at his too-knowing gaze. She went to the kitchen and began bustling around to make some hot chocolate, heating the water in a pot. Sticky regret was clinging to her pores as she remembered all the pranks she'd pulled on her bitter, angsty older sister. 'No wonder she hated me,' Lily sighed internally.

James was hugging her now, helping her peel off the many layers she was wearing. As the water came to a boil, they sat in contemplative silence and enjoyed the comfort of each other's presence. "Thank you for being here, James." She whispered it against his collarbone, face nuzzled into his chest. His lips brushed her forehead and she sagged into him further. He kissed her closed eyelids, then her cheekbones, then her numb nose-tip. She raised her chin to meet his lips better, open her mouth to let him cure her from this savage sadness that seemed to wash her in waves.

"I love you, Lilyflower." It was barely a whisper. And he jolted away, looking at her with dilated eyes, searching her face like it wasn't supposed to slip out.

She smiled, pressing her mouth against his again to swallow whatever apologies he would say to backtrack from the admission. He sighed against her lips, letting his forehead rest against hers. The bubbling of the pot, their light, synchronized breathing, and the metronome ticking of the wall-clock were the only noise draining from her ears into her mind. Her brain replayed his words, echoing it in the semi-silent chambers and tickling her skull. They loop and crescendo, making her lips curl into the greediest smile as she continued to nibble on his lips and taste his tongue. She's on her tippy-toes now, pressing into him and forcing him to say it again without wanting to take it back.

"I love you _so_ _much_ , Lily Evans." It's said with such passion that Lily's mouth responds with a hungry whimper, letting him give her true rapturous happiness. It's blinding and her fingers are clawing at his shirt.

His mouth is suckling her neck hard enough to bruise.

And she likes it because it's as painful and sweet as the graveyard fishes that swim in her cavernous soul.


	11. Our Family

Author's note: Enjoy! FYI: Enrique says in Honduran Spanish, "he is _very_ rich".

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Lily's mom comes home with a sleeping Rosalie in her arms. She's quietly arguing with someone on the phone in her native tongue. Lily's lulled mind translates a few words as the rest is too fast to follow when she's this exhausted. Currently, she's lounged on the couch, head resting in James' lap as he untangles the braids her brother made earlier. Her hair is frizzing and she feels them in her mouth, tickling her like spiders trying to climb her skin. Enrique is playing xbox across from her, and silence is filled by the sound of rapid-fire gunshots from the stereo. It's funny how it's already ten past nine. The whole day had been such a blur and time dripped through a sieve. Lily had napped twice today-earlier when James had fingered her, and again, on this very couch as they sipped hot chocolate and nibbled on dry toast. She pieced together the story her Mama weaved, to an unknown recipient on the other end of her phone.

Her mother's complaining about Grace, the wealthy exec whose house she cleans on Saturdays. Apparently, the woman's teenage son accused her mother of stealing his watch. Lily's brows furrowed as she stood up to take Rosie from her mom, rocking the toddler whom was groggily rubbing at her eyes. Her sweet brown eyes opened, a lazy smile curled on her cherub face, and she rested her head back onto her big sister as sleep returned to overtake her.

"I'm too tired to make dinner, hija." Her mom looked apologetic as she held onto the doorframe to kick off her shoes and mindlessly massage her toes.

"No, ma, you don't have to cook for us! I was home all day…" Lily's face was growing hotter as she contemplated how useless she had been today. Her poor mom was working on the weekends to make ends meet and Lily hadn't even been thoughtful enough to prepare dinner for them in advance. Instead, she had slept. Twice. 'What a lazy, sorry excuse for a-', Lily's self-hatred was cut off by the sound of Enrique jumping to his feet, leaning towards the coffee table with his controller buttons madly being jabbed.

Her mom slumped in the recliner, looking far too old for her age. Her fingers were pressing into her eyes, as if she were shoving them into the sockets. Tired hands ran over her face, her lids drooping as she leaned back further. The sounds of bombs being blasted, of carnage from recreational warfare continued to pierce the night. Lily watched her mother sleep, so worn from the day that she hadn't even bothered to take her coat off. She nestled into James' embrace, with her baby sister in her arms. She wondered if they looked like a new family, with their beautiful baby girl being held so softly. Lily felt James place a firm kiss to her hair and his arms roped around her to give a tighter squeeze that pulled her snuggly to his body.

"Hey, what do you want to eat, Ricky?" James was talking to her brother now, whom had paused the game after another violent fit of gaming. Enrique was sitting on the coffee table, knobby knees hitting her own playfully as he bounced his legs nervously.

"Hmmm….Idunno." Her brother said, and then went back to playing, after briefly leaning forward to brush hair out of Lily's face.

"What do you want to eat, Lilypetals?" His breath was warm on her cheek and she instinctively turned to brush her lips against his.

"Hmmm….Idunno either." He rolled his pretty hazel eyes at her. Truthfully though, she was full from the day's exploits coupled with the multiple snackings. James asked Enrique for his phone, which her brother dug around deep in his pocket for before waving it with one arm, unseeingly as his eyes were fixated on the screen in front of him. She ducked to dodge being hit in the head by his idiot flailing.

James grinned at her before tapping softly on the keys. She wished that the overreaction in his apartment had never happened. Honestly, she wouldn't even care if he had texted the Queen that Lily had sucked on his balls earlier this morning.

And it was just a few innocent photos that threw her into a firestorm. Her lip was gnawed on as she bitterly clung to the embarrassment that her unchained anxiety had caused. Honestly, she couldn't even believe that it had only been a day since that had even occurred.

"Hey, there's a taco place nearby, I'm up for that." James was offering a solution to the constant indecision that always seemed to accompany food-picking in her family.

Her brother was quick to shoot it down, "No way, that place is way too goddamn expensive." And he went back to playing his game.

"Well, I want it." James stated it like a demand. She could easily see that he was an only-child for most of his life, given his combative face with those molten eyes. " _And I'm paying_."

Lily heard herself talk before she had actually realized her mouth was speaking. "NO, James. We don't need your charity." And her lip was bleeding now, from where she had agitated it too much. He thumbed at it, swiping the coppery liquid onto his jeans. Rosie shifted in her arms, from being hugged too tight.

"Not charity." He was smiling now, that same clinically-patient smile he gave her whenever he felt she was being especially slow or flighty. The one where his eyes crinkled on the sides with concern.

"No, I'll make tacos here. Just…here," she handed him the bundle of toddler, placing her sister into his lap as she got up to head towards the kitchen.

James did that annoyed clucking noise in the back of his throat. She fondly recalled the last time he made that sound was in her hallway when she'd been a drowned rat. Then he spoke words that made her eye-twitch while simultaneously made her kneecaps disintegrate to leave her on wobbly leg-stilts.

" _I'm treating our family to a nice night out_."

Her throat was sore now, like someone had choked the life out of her and left her suffering the bruised results. Enrique snickered somewhere in her peripheral, leaning in for a high-five that James met proudly. Bunch of fucking goons. Lily wondered if James Potter made it a habit to collect strays, brothers.

Lily shook her head, toeing the carpet awkwardly.

"A margarita does sound nice," came the soft, melodic voice of her mother. It was coated in sleep and dipped in humor.

She whipped her head around to glare at the traitors. "N-nh-nuh…no." When had her teeth started chattering like this? Her whole body seemed as cold as the flurries that were collecting on the windowpanes.

 _Our family._ She wanted to groan as her toes curled into the carpet. _Our family_. She wanted to smack everyone until they regained their senses to not fall to his machinations. _Our family._ She wanted to grab him by the shirt and drag him up to her room and ride him until he gave her their own little family.

Lily's nostrils were flaring as she breathed aggressively. She hadn't realized how worked up she had gotten until noticing that everyone was watching her pant breathlessly. Their eyes were watchful, bodies stiff and alert in case she triggered a panic attack. A thought flitted through her mind, that if this was how zookeepers handled the beasts- with this sense of trepidation and hyperawareness. She let out a high-pitched laugh, that same one that always brewed in her belly whenever she was feeling particularly on-edge. Then she took two deep lungfuls as if to say, 'I'm okay-here's proof'.

Her mother was standing by the front door now, putting on her shoes again. It seemed very precise, and she knew that it was with practiced movements as if they were still being cautious. Lily wanted to scream that she was OKAY. She wanted to punch James in the face for observing her with that stupid, calm face of his. And Enrique was already in his coat, wrapping a long scarf around his neck, not paying attention to her. His back was towards her, but she saw that his head was tilted just slightly enough to the side so that she was still within his vision. Lily huffed bitterly, hating that they were treating her like a rampaging animal about to go full-on Hulk.

Eventually her breathing evened out, but only after she had scooped Rosie into her arms and buried her face in the silky curls on her sister's head.

She followed them to the car morosely, grumbling when James leaned over to help buckle her baby sister into the car seat. Helpful bastard. Enrique took shotgun, already fiddling with the radio to put on some pop music softly. James sat in the backseat with her, divided by the clunky car seat strapped between them. She was glad she didn't have to look at him, knowing she'd probably accidentally-on-purpose snarl and snap words she'd regret later.

Her mother drove them to El Toro, the Mexican Steakhouse he'd chosen. She was worrying her fingernail, biting it fitfully. James' gloved fingers curled around hers, taking her hand and warming it. She had forgotten her mittens and hat, darn. She let her hair obscure her face, taking sneaked glanced towards the boy who had claimed her family as his own.

The restaurant was Tex-Mex themed with colorful lanterns hung in the ceiling, kitschy cacti dressed like mariachi men were painted on a mural on the largest wall. The servers wore colorful shirts that mimicked sarape patterns. She pondered whether this was cultural appropriation considering all the staff was Caucasian. Almost all the customers were too, with a few darker tones sprinkled in sparsely. Lily felt out of her depth as the attendant guided them to their seats. Enrique was murmuring under his breath, " _él es muy pistudo_ ". She reached out to pinch her brother's side, letting him know she heard him. James cocked an eyebrow, surveying the interaction with mild interest. He sat closest to her as her brother and mom took the opposite side of the table. Rosie was trying to escape the high chair that the restaurant provided.

Lily's head automatically tilted to the side to rest on her boyfriend's arm. She closed her eyes and let the soft chatter from the other patrons fill her mind. The overhead speakers were yodeling with a melancholy tale of a broken heart by a seductive Hispanic voice that sounded like it had chain-smoked for fifteen years and then eaten glass. The gravelly texture of the singer's voice made the ballad sound heartier, vintage, and she couldn't decide if the owner of the deep, sultry tones was male or female.

Her mother was talking softly, ordering a simple cheese quesadilla plate and a house margarita for herself. She surely would feed Rosie a few bites of her refried beans since it was mushy enough. Enrique got some sort of salad with grilled shrimp on it, James ordered a combination plate that had carne asada, rice and beans, and corn tortillas that came with bacon-wrapped steak medallions that he ordered medium rare. She nearly lost her breath when her eyes scanned the price for his meal. $34 for that one plate alone. Lily picked an appetizer for her meal, hoping to offset the bill's final costs a bit. She asked the server for more time to think, letting him bring them chips and salsa while she decided. Eventually she opted for street corn, elote, which was one grilled corn-on-the-cob smothered in cotija cheese and tajin seasoning powder. She grumbled as James fussily prodded her to order a larger meal but he gave up to shovel some salsa into her mouth with a crunchy chip as the vessel. She chewed disdainfully, pouting at him.

"James, I'm not too hungry…" Lily hoped that he'd get off her ass and let this go. She could feel his body give up and sulk as he chose to talk to her family instead of her. Her hand went to take his under the table, giving it a reassuring squeeze. She listened in on their conversation and learned that her boyfriend graduated with honors at NYU for his business degree during undergrad, concentrating in International business. He even had his Master's from Stern's School of Business. She eyed him skeptically, unsure when he had accomplished all of this considering he seemed so laid back. "How old are you, James?" Her mother asked the question that had popped into her head. It was like their brains were connected. He responded with a sharp glance directly into her eyes that made her recoil. Like the ricochet of a bullet, he pulled her back to press against him. "Ahhh, well…" He was pushing his glasses up his long nose now, chewing on a chip to buy himself some time. Lily heard him mumble "31" under his breath. She twitched reflexively.

After a few long seconds, she let out air through her teeth, like a piston firing and releasing steam. The cutting hiss made Enrique jump into the conversation, ever-aware that he was needed as comic-relief. "Yo, you're an old man!" And then he was letting out his booming laugh, hiding behind Mama's arm as James chucked pieces of tortilla chips at his head. There wasn't _that_ much of an age gap. But Lily had never dated an older man before, much less dated at all. Seven years wasn't so bad…She cringed into herself trying to accept the shifting worldview. It felt awkward knowing her Mama was eight years older than James. He could be dating _her_. Enrique watched them like a soap opera through hooded eyes as he chomped on his shrimp.

Lily didn't eat her corn. She prodded at it with a fork, eating the spicy cheese off the top before pretending to take a few nibbles. She sipped the cold water, letting the condensation on the glass wet her already sweaty hands. And never once did she look over at James. He was tense beside her, his body heat making her sides itch. His posture was far too upright compared to the man she'd gotten to know. Enrique was asking him about his work, his friends, and what his hobbies were. Her mother's dulcet voice was chatting with him about politics and then about his future. She learned he loved playing lacrosse and that he enjoyed elaborate pranks on his best friends. Just like they did to Petunia. James' voice was hard like the ceramic tiles that decorated the table they ate on. He talked about his parents, about their life's work, and how he planned on getting his PhD. 'Doctor Potter,' her slutty mind whispered hotly.

Lily kept her head down the entire time, staring blankly at her plate. Rosie cooed and clapped, banged her spoon a lot, and made generally fussy noises until she was cranky enough to start bawling her eyes out. Her mom rose to take her to the restroom to get a diaper change. Rosalie still was too young to be potty-trained. Enrique was being affected by the tension too, his fingernails drumming anxiously on the tabletop until he flashed them a falsified smile and excused himself for the restroom as well, practically running away.

"You're upset with me." She jolted like he'd stung her, refusing to look at him as he accused her. Her fingers were breaking a tortilla chip into a thousand crumbles, piece-by-piece as she fidgeted. The mural on the wall mocked her with the anthropomorphic cacti grinning down knowingly behind their bushy handlebar moustaches.

"You're uncomfortable with our age difference." Suddenly it became the most interesting artwork she had ever laid eyes on. James was still James. It shouldn't matter that he was actually not her age at all. "Lily…" Wow, look at that tumbleweed. That artist sure managed to capture the depth of the tangled ball.

Her fists were clenched on the napkin, dabbing at the water she had accidentally spilled with her shaking hands. He heaved a frustrated sigh. Maybe he'd give up on her soon, since he'd been so accepting of her faults and she couldn't get past this one tiny thing. Except it wasn't tiny to her. And she swallowed the shame of it, the fact that it was a big deal when it shouldn't be because he had no control over it as her own family had no choice over the color of their skin.

"I'm sorry…." He was apologizing now, for something he couldn't change that was entirely irrelevant to their relationship. His age didn't make him any less thoughtful, funny, or lovely. His pale fingers were mopping up the soggy tissues with fresh ones. Lily's face was flushed and she tugged off the cardigan she was wearing. James leaned away as she awkwardly shoved her arms in the air trying to shimmy out of the layers. His face was stoic, reticent, and he had his own blush high on the bridge of his nose spreading out on his cheekbones to the tips of his ears. 'I'm being ridiculous,' she chastised herself scornfully.

Lily mumbled something incoherent as she attempted to crawl over his lanky body to escape the seat. He let her go, sliding out of the booth before she did and reaching to her elbow to steady them both. She admired how tall he was, feeling dwarfed as they stood toe-to-toe for a few seconds before she exited the restaurant. He didn't follow.

Her feet led her to pace in the parking lot, hovering around where their car was parked. She was stupidly cold, having forgotten her many layers and coat in the restaurant. Instead she rocked on the heels of her boots, crunching gravel and kicking random pebbles. Her skin was hurting after only a few minutes of the biting cold, rattling her bones from within the marrow itself. Too proud to go back inside, she sat on the curb, hugging herself for any sliver of warmth. She sat there thinking, about the man that she mistook for a boy, stewing on her acid guilt. What was her future with a man that was far older and wiser than she had originally assumed. 'Perhaps that was the heart of it,' Lily paused, 'maybe I'm threatened by him now because he's out of my league?' And she thought some more until her entire body was shaking from chills.

A warm blanket was placed over her shoulder-no, a jacket. James was standing there with pursed lips as he wrapped her coat over her shivering frame and pulled her closer.

"Sorry, I had to wait until your family came back from the bathroom. Didn't want the waiter to think we ditched. And then he took ages to process the damn card." He was holding her delicately, tucking her face under his chin and putting his black gloves on her stricken, frostbitten fingers. His warm, frowning lips pressed to her chapped ones. She was unresponsive.

James led her to the car and buckled her in the passenger seat, letting the engine run idly as the car began to heat up. He took the driver's seat, eyes glazed as they stared thousands of miles away directly in-front of him. Enrique and her mother quietly strapped Rosie in before sitting in the backseat and conversing in hushed tones. She smelled the to-go boxes and her stomach swirled in protest. Her ears picked up Spanish and she let out a relieved sigh that James didn't know what they were discussing. Unless he was bilingual.

They drove in silence in the front of the car, only breaking the tragically depressed atmosphere when Lily whispered things like 'turn right' or 'left at the stoplight'. She grew courageous though, as time continued to tick away and they drew closer to the house with a heavier, looming sadness. Lily's fingers stealthily inched closer to his hand before she laid her palm flat against his. His neck made a cracking sound from how abruptly he turned to look at her and she let out a shrill, short puff of laughter from her wintery lungs. His fingers entwined with hers, trapping her. She hadn't planned on pulling away anyway. They never spoke as they drove the remaining way home, but she could see his lips had turned a bit upward and it made her heart squeeze deliciously.

Perhaps it was time to finish that talk.


	12. Whatever You Want

Author's note: Lemons and lemonade. Drink up!

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It was a tension that was immutably cutting into the micro-reunion she had carved out with her family in Hoboken. It ebbed and flowed unpredictably like a forest fire, choking her and forcing her to surrender. They were okay, even holding hands, but it hadn't been enough to contain the fears of what the conversation awaiting her would result in.

Lily had scrambled out the car and into the house before anyone had even unbuckled. Her bravery had quaked and cracked, psyching out by the time they turned onto their street. She was in the shower now, sitting fetal position in the tub as the water pounded on her scalp like angry, miniature tap-dancers. The heat from the water was starting to scald her in a way she was sure to leave blisters on her back and shoulders. She wasn't sure why she was crying but she was fucking sick of this shit-of not being able to keep it together, of overreacting all the time, of being so fragile and demented and she wanted to just dissolve down the drain. 'Friggin' weak ass medicine', she scowled.

It wasn't even James' age that was the issue, she eventually realized. It was his…experience. Like if this was a job interview for relationships, she was maybe entry-level and he was a seasoned professional. Why did he want to date her? She was neurotic and felt like her seams had been severed and the stuffing was falling out all the time. Lily let her head thump on the shower wall, groaning pitifully when it rattled her brain. Was Sirius also older? And Remus? Peter too?

Was everyone looking at her like this lost little girl that just needed to be spoon-fed and coddled? A hysterical hiccup escaped her mouth. No wonder James had babied her with the soup, and he was always looking at her like an injured deer. He probably wasn't even sure what his feelings were for her, considering she had greedily eaten up his compassion and perpetuated this sick sense of codependency she had developed for him. She was a leech, his parasitic neighbor that always ran away from life and he would eventually get tired of chasing after her. He was just too good a person to turn away helping her.

"Lily, I'm coming in, _okay_?" 'No, it's not okay,' she wanted to scream but her teeth were too clenched and she wondered if they would shatter soon. She hugged her knees to her chest, trying to clutch any remains of modesty she had as her body vibrated with silent sobs.

He didn't talk to her, thank god, but she heard him heave a tired sigh. 'Yes, James, _I'm tired of my shit too_ ,' she bemoaned pathetically. Instead, she listened to his movements like the sound of him pushing the shower curtain aside to sit on the edge of the tub-shower-combo-thing that she wished was her watery casket. A 'plllrp' noise made her quickly glance up to see him squirting shampoo into his hand. Then his fingers began magically, patiently-always so patiently, working on her broken head. She squeezed her eyes shut the whole time, not wanting to see his pretty face or kind eyes, but also not wanting to get the damn suds burning at her peepers. The smell of strawberries filled the air, synthetic and sharp like this false sense of security.

James Potter must have been a masseuse in another life. His soapy hands went to her naked, hunched shoulders and rubbed the knots out enough to make her shiver. Her tailbone was paining from being crunched up in the small tub so she felt herself slump as her legs straightened out. Her breasts were no longer hidden behind her pink, awkward knees. He didn't care nor did he notice as his hands continued to massage and shampoo her. Lily hated herself more than ever for again aiding and abetting the absolutely criminal murdering of her pride as she continued enabling this sick Caretaker Potter thing she had for him. The sounds of squelching hair and pounding water were therapeutic and drained her more than the last few days combined. She felt him tip her head back and he began massaging her throat. A whimper escaped her lips before she could control it and his fingers froze. One. Two. Three. Four seconds passed, and then the slick fingertips continued rubbing up and down her throat, tracking her clavicle and then the freckles on her shoulders. And then he began speaking in that syrupy, sweet voice that he always withheld for her. Lily wished he'd yell at her impatiently like he would Sirus or maybe even hiss sarcastic insults to her like he reserved for Severus. But no, his voice dripped like honey on ice cream, melting her and making her feel sticky with blame.

"You're a mess, you know that? And it's making me a mess. I just want to be there for you. We can just be friends, if that's what you want. Anything you want, Lily." He was giving her an out. Or maybe himself. Maybe after he unlocked Pandora's box inside her, he found only some crusty pennies and stale cough drops like the bottom of her purse? She inhaled a wet sniffle and stared at him with wide eyes.

He looked a mess, wholeheartedly. His eyes were lined with red, his face had hard lines, and his sweater was almost entirely soaked by the off-sprays from the showerhead. He looked old, now that she was seeking proof of it. Where had the giggling idiot gone…the one who threw flowers at her head from his balcony singing love songs during Spring and danced with her to infomercials in his kitchen? It was jarring.

"I'm a virgin." She didn't mean to make it sound like she was ashamed of her chastity. Because she surely wasn't. However, the words tumbled out the wrong way and he quirked a sliver of a smile. "I-I'm-I meant, I've never had a boyfriend. Or a date, like the coffee shop, and you were making my tea-and then your hand fits mine. Your soup, and the cat-and then Ricky. My family loves you-and I, now, I just can't-" Lily broke off with a frustrated huff, swiping the strands of hair from her face, " _And now I just can't imagine my life without you._ " She said it so faintly that she wasn't sure if it was in her head or not.

'Prrrfbt.' It was conditioner being squeezed into his palm like a wet fart.

And his hands carried on washing her hair like nothing had happened and like she hadn't just thrown up that she basically wanted to marry him. And his lack of reaction clearly meant they were strictly friends now. Her fingers mingled with his as she tried to squeeze the sopping red hair and wring it dry. They worked like programmed machines, interacting but never feeling. At least she thought, considering that his face looked like the white walls of the bathroom prison they were in.

She was sitting on the sink now and James was blow-drying her hair. She sat as a wad of cotton towels, swinging her legs with agitation. James never once stopped fluffing her hair, even when she accidentally kicked him in the shin three times. It was like he was nervous too, but all his mannerisms contradicted that, as his hands combed through her tangles. She wondered if this meant he had broken up with her, since he was willing to be only friends. It was too quiet, driving her mad that she could hear her heartbeat in her ears.

"I thought you were repulsed by the age difference." She blinked at him curiously, surprised he was finally talking to her. "And I was upset at myself-that I misled you." Lily squinted at him and he leaned down to brush his lips against her forehead. Her right foot curled around his calf muscle with wary glee.

"But it's not about that. It's never that simple with you, right?" He let out a chuckle, turning off and unplugging the blow dryer. "You think I'm some sort of Casanova, like I've got women lined up around the block trying to date me and a laundry list of exploits in my past." He rolled his eyes, bumping her knee with his hipbone. "You're the only girl for me, Red. Hard work and worth it." Lily fiddled with the hair brush, removing strands that were caught in the bristles. "I've been in love with you for over half a decade, just pining away like some sort of stalker. Do you honestly think that I'd let you go now that I've got you?" She didn't respond. Why was talking so difficult? It wasn't like she didn't know how to hold conversations like an intelligent person. Her job was to lecture large groups of people, for fuck's sake. All she did was talk about stuff. And yet, James always made her forget basic human functions like breathing and speaking.

His mouth was on hers in a hot second, and teeth gnashed against lips while tongues rubbed sensuously. She could die like this as he sucked her soul out. They kissed like reunited lovers after being torn apart by war. And it was, except a softer warfare of the mind. He was peeling the towel down now, letting it pool at her waist. She whimpered when he went for her throat and he let out a growl that had something deep in her belly clenching. "That sound drives me fucking insane, Lily Evans." His kissing grew slower and eventually they stopped to breath. His long nose brushed against hers, their glasses clinking quietly in solidarity. James attacked her lips again with fervor, worshiping and bruising her body with his hands.

His fingers were toying with her breasts, tugging and twisting in the most delightfully painful ways. She continued to wrestle with his mouth, gasping and moaning as he teased her with murmured words against her pale skin. He was kissing down her stomach now, lighting a path of fire as he traveled to where she burned brightest. Her legs were splayed, feet propped up on the cabinet handles below the sink. He unwrapped the damp towel like a revered Christmas present, cherishing the sight she was, flushed and panting. He nuzzled the soft skin of her inner thigh, pecking and nipping kisses until she had hickies littering the flesh there. Then his finger reached out to caress the little tuft of brassy hair between her legs. He was painstakingly slow with his explorations with pianist's fingers skillfully rubbing her folds and the tight bead of nerves that had her quivering. His hot breath was descending nearer, and she had to clench her eyes shut and force herself not to close her legs. Another godforsaken whimper escaped her teeth when his tongue touched her there for the first time. And he groaned, delving into her with uninhibited passion.

She was being ripped apart and then sewn together as his mouth worked and his fingers worked, and she was building, and aching, and climbing for the height of desire as she rode his hands and grinded her hips into his face. Lily wasn't aware she was making noise but when he abruptly pulled away, she let her head fall back onto the foggy mirror with a 'thunk'. James grinned up at her, his chin and lips glistening so erotically that she couldn't fathom ever seeing him more attractive. Then his hand shoved a bundled fist into her mouth, of the towel that had fallen to the floor earlier, and he quickly went back down to unravel her leisurely with his tongue.

It was cliché but Lily Evans came so hard she saw stars. White sunbursts erupted behind her eyelids and her body convulsed as he held her in place, anchoring her those large hands that seemed more familiar with her body than her own. Her screams were muffled with the towel and now after the high, her mouth was dry and cottony. She gave James a shaky smile, pressing her lips to his with a tired sigh. His fingers were wet as they tugged playfully on the cinnamon curls between her legs before coming to rest on her lower back. The thrumming of her pulse was relaxing into a safer pace now.

" _I'm not sure I could ever just be your friend_ ," he murmured against her mouth and she could taste herself on him.

"Ditto," she said with a lazy giggle from him rubbing his stubble against her cheek. His eyes were luminous and electric, like the James that she loved. Her fingertips reached out to caress the small crow's feet that gathered at the corners of his eyes when he smiled. She loved them, especially so. He made her feel so alive. So whole.

"I don't know what I'm doing, but I love you, even if it's hard to get it out the right way…" She wanted him to know, like a disclaimer that she was verbally incompetent when it came to discussing her feelings for him.

"Lilyflower, there's no right way. Just say it however you want." He kissed her thoroughly and deliberately. "Even if it means tamales at 2am."

Uhm, technically it was early morning when she had brought those over, thank you very much. But she understood his point. So instead Lily said, "Even if it's stupid little hearts on my signature where I dot my i's?" He had a silly half-grin now and he was hugging her against his chest.

"I have the sticky note in my wallet still."

They would be okay. All was well.

Until Enrique started pounding on the door and hollered, "DID YOU POP HER CHERRY YET?!"


	13. Saturday Night Truths

Author's note: One more tiny lemon and then we're in it for the long haul. The plot _will_ thicken. Hope y'all enjoy!

Trigger Warning: This chapter contains rough intercourse. Remember kids, CONSENT IS SEXY! Feel free to skip to the next chapter if this isn't your cup o' tea.

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James tucked her into the bed and strode across the room to sit on Petunia's bed. He blushed when he admitted that if he were in her bed, they'd have a repeat of this morning's shenanigans and he wouldn't be able to hold a decent conversation. Who needed those anyway?

He was currently kicking off his shoes and lounging back to stare at the stars on her ceiling. She didn't notice he wore shoes in the bathroom earlier, having been too preoccupied. Their house had a strict no-shoe policy because Rosie crawled everywhere and it was repulsive to imagine dragging dog shit and other questionable puddle fluids from outside onto the floor where a baby roamed. She knew it meant he must have rushed in after her, forgetting the golden rule of the porch welcome mat that said, 'Leave your worries (and your shoes) at the door'.

But Lily acquiesced to his request for distance, snuggling her naked body in the soft pink comforter and settling in as if preparing for story-time. He orated like her old professors, sounding willowy with his wisdom like an aged French wine. His nervousness had collapsed after her earlier admissions and that Potter spark was back. He had that weird unshakeable confidence again that made his body graceful and lax in a way she always secretly envied. It was difficult to make out the shapes in the room, with her vision blurred without the glasses.

Darkness was like a veil on them, shrouding them from truths of their intimacy and trapping her in delicate glass like a love letter bobbing on the calm sea. She loved listening to his voice.

"You're the only one for me, Lily. I don't know how I can prove it to you except for being by your side and letting time show you how devoted I am to this-to us. I'm not here for a fling, you're not a conquest. This is the real deal and I know I have my flaws-," he broke off to shuffle a pillow around and she squinted in the inky blackness to see him on his side staring at her, mirroring her own smile. "But _I'm yours_. And I'll do everything in my power to show you that I can be your rock."

Lily distractedly muttered, "I don't want you to fix me." She was scowling at him now, ignoring his other words.

"No, no, you were never broken- That's not what I mean. I want every single facet of Lily Evans…including her smiles, her cooking, her laughter, and her ability to find good in every single person she's ever met. That positivity is so pure, it's addictive. But I also want her sadness, her sorrow, and her panic attacks, and guilt." She heard his glasses tinker as they rested onto the side table and he sat up, hugging a pillow to his chest. Lily's face was flushed and she covered her head with the blanket to burrow away from him.

"Lils, I want a family with you and I want to hold you close when we fall asleep every night. I want you to accomplish every single goal or whim you ever have and I want to be the one to kiss every tear that falls for the rest of your life. Just, I know this sounds fucking corny as hell, just I'm madly in love with you and I can't let you keep wondering whether it's enough." He strode over to her now, breaking his rule for space. He hovered nervously on the edge of her bed before she shuffled over and made room for him to sit. Her heart was stinging in her chest and eyes prickling from the passionate prose.

"You deserve so much more than I could give, Lily. But if you'll have me—God, I swear, I'll do my best to make you happy."

Hot streams were rolling down her cheeks before she realized and he reached out to cup her face. It was a moist kiss, but it was probably the best one yet, because it was innocent and true. "I love you," she blubbered against his lips and he knew that already but it tasted sweeter than ever. Their kisses became languid as she calmed down. Her sniffling had ceased and the air shifted with something far darker than the encompassing night.

"I want to spoil you." His mouth moved to her neck, always aware of what that did to her. He teased her viscously.

"Mhhh, no…" she tried to coherently moan her disapproval, "I-ah _, right there_ , hate people spending money— _oh!_ —on me." He helped her take off his sweater, the one that was cold from barely-dried soap water that had gotten stiff.

"I want to fuck you." His lips were wrapping around her nipples now, the other being pinched harshly with his talented fingers. "I want to marry you." She cried out when he aggressively pushed his fingers into her pussy, not bothering to check if she was wet enough. She was. And then he began pumping them torturously, drawing her pleasure out as she soaked his hand. His free hand gripped her hair so crudely that she whimpered with ragged breaths, but it drew him back to her mouth to swallow her whole. He wanted to consume what was his. Finally and always his.

"Too rougggghhh," she groaned, as he pushed his fingers deeper. Four were in her, fuck, it was too much. He bit on her nipple so sharply that she swore it nearly bled. And her cries continued as he forced a profoundly pleasurable pain from her. She was like a bonfire, raging and wild. His hand released her hair and covered her mouth, pressing achingly on her teeth and gums. She screamed into his fingers, muffled and wanton as he plunged and pushed deeper. Her legs were as wide as they could go, back arched in a violent curve. And he continued to take from her.

"Good," his voice was so molten, like scalding candle wax. Almost his entire hand was in her now. Tears leaked from the sides of her eyes as he plundered her body and then immediately soothed it with his hot tongue on her areolas. Both nipples stung as he hopped from one to the other, never giving one ample time to rest before gathering it back up for another excruciatingly pleasing round.

She reached down to rub her clit, because gods-she was so fucking close and everything _hurt so good_. But his fist released her mouth lightning fast and trapped her wayward hand above her head. He stopped fingering her.

"Did I give you permission to do that?" His smile was like wicked like venom, but his eyes were alert with apprehension. She knew that her safety was priority so she flashed him a weak smile. He leaned in to brush his lips against her forehead, and she tilted her chin upwards to meet his mouth. She fought back, passionately trying to control their little game. But he overpowered her, flipping her onto her stomach with a grunt.

She tried reasoning with him, stutteringly because her synapses wouldn't fire, "I-we, Ja-J-James. We sh-should t-talkkk." He silenced her with a deafening slap to her bottom, leaving her right cheek burning hot with shame and something more.

"S-Siri-uuuus. His job's dang-danger-!?" She was clawing at her bedspread now, his fingers buried deep in her folds. She felt his lips on her backbone, tongue tracing her spine. Slippery paths followed downward as he continued relentlessly fingering her with two digits.

" _Don't ever say his name…When. I'm. Fucking. You_." Each word was accompanied by harsher thrusts and curled fingers inside her. He pressed deliciously on her upper wall, bringing her teetering on the edge of awareness.

She stuffed the pillow into her mouth to contain the mews of pleasure as he rubbed a slick finger against her _other_ hole with his free hand. Lily felt him prodding but the newness of the sensation was offset by the shameless rigor of his sopping fingers mashing and rubbing her clit. A wet finger pressed harder, slipping past the tenseness of her bum with such a jolting, glazed pain that she came immediately, weeping into her pillowcase and trembling like a newborn fawn.

Sweet, tender kisses skimmed the cheek he had slapped so brutally, soothing it with warm breaths. The stinging had dulled to a light glow. His fingers left her body reluctantly, coming to draw moist doodles on her backbone. She had died in this room. Her face was sunken into the pillow, inhales saturated with saliva. God.

He was petting her hair and she was on her stomach like three-week-old road kill. Lily knew she didn't have enough strength for sex right now, nor for assisting him in reaching his own climax. "Ididn'doyou" she mumbled into the pillow. James' teeth nipped at her earlobe, tingling.

Always a giver, he didn't seek his own pleasure. Instead, he snuggled her close on the tiny twin bed and held her flustered, naked body to his bare chest until she fell asleep.


	14. Seen by His Eyes

Author's note: **Potter POV.** M rating as always.

Snape will be reintroduced to the plot soon and I thought we could do with a little treat. Here's a peek into James' head before we carry on with the larger literary shenanigans. I think it's smack-dab in the middle of the story now so probably about 13 chapters left to go. Shoutout to Schak who left a very great review-some may take it as a flame but this chapter was drafted in advance of receiving it and I feel addresses his/her concerns wholly (and for any others who felt similar).

Toodles!

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James' hands were soaked in sweat as he ran searching hands all over Lily's frame. He smoothed her hair, rubbed her back, and soothed her bottom. Shame creaked in his marrow. It shouldn't have gotten so out of hand. He should have controlled himself. _They were supposed to just talk_.

He crouched near her, knees sinking into the plush carpet. "Lily, did I hurt you?" He breathed a shaken sigh as he asked, running fingertips across her cheekbones and nose. He wanted to kiss every freckle on her face. She murmured 'nhhho' before snuggling her face deeper into the pillow. James wasn't sure that it was enough of a coherent answer, so he continued to pet her with guilty hands.

"Lily, I didn't mean to be so….." he paused, trying to gather a lungful from a chest that ached with blame. "Aggressive _."_

She tilted her face to the side to look at him and opened one eye to peek up innocently at him. Her eyes were rimmed crimson and puffy-looking. _Oh god, he'd made her cry_. Too rough, she said. James felt something akin to bile raise in his belly and claw its way up his throat.

"S'okay, Jamie," he brushed strains of wispy hair out of her face, "I liked it." A soft pink was blooming on her cheeks now, overtaking her neck. He ran a thumb over her lower lip.

"I swear-I promise, I-" his words were coming out warbled in his own ears. He drew in a sharp breath before busying himself with uncovering her from the sheets and running his hands over her body to scan for bruises. Her pale skin had red imprints on her hipbones and he nervously began kneading them with clammy fingertips. Lily groaned as she pulled away to turn over to her back. His teeth were hurting from how badly he clenched his jaw. His tongue felt fat and heavy in his mouth. And the taste was vile, stale with angst. Her body was hurting. He caused this.

Lily Evans deserved to be worshipped and made love to. Not pounded like a paid pleasure. His hands returned to her hipbones, noticing how sharp and jutted they were. She had lost weight during her grief, he had watched the way her clothes grew too loose and shoulders hunched in on itself. James wanted to fix her, and he knew it was terribly egotistical of him to think he could or that she needed to be, but it was something etched in his veins by a higher power. Or so it felt like. He continued to massage the bruises softly until Lily smacked his hand away.

"Jeez, James. It was just a little intense but I'm not a fucking glass ornament." She was tutting at him, glaring down with those stunning emerald eyes. His hands flopped to his side, tugging at the carpet tufts listlessly as she ushered him up to the bed. He refused, choosing to fiddle with the blanket tag. He noted that it said 'Made in Taiwan' and that it was made of polyester and cotton. Pleasuring Lily was supposed to be perfectly done, passionately savored like a decadent meal by the finest chef. He'd dreamt of touching her for so long and it was all mapped out in his brain how he was meant to touch her. But being with her, it was scalding and consuming and he forgot his plans to seduce her patiently.

"Stop moping, you idiot." She nudged his bare shoulder with her tiny foot. Her toes were cold. James tried to smile at her but it probably came out as a grimace. His knees creaked when he stood up and he leaned over to tuck her back under the covers. She scooted over against the wall to make room for him on the small bed. He wondered if any teen boys had laid with her in this very spot and held her like this, a flash of envy bubbling in his stomach. No woman had ever been in his bed except Lily. Nor his apartment, unless Sirius brought someone over. James' last tryst was on another continent during his lapse in judgment while he attempted to suture a broken heart in South Africa. He had given up on her too soon. She was suffering from her dad dying and he'd selfishly tried moving on.

His face was buried against her collarbone now, breathing in her feminine, soft fragrance. Her fingers danced against his scalp, twisting his hair distractedly. He could tell by her breathing that she would fall asleep soon. Laying on top of the covers next to her, he wondered how he'd ever be able to make love to her like a normal human being should when she begged and scratched at him so ferociously. ' _She's a virgin_ ,' he reprimanded himself. He had to go slow. First times were painful, according to the internet and sex-ed and shit. 'But she's not made of glass,' he chided. Lily had said so herself. And she enjoyed it.

James vowed he would teach her body pleasures she'd never experienced before. No toy would touch her like he could. If she liked fisting, he'd use lube next time. If she liked anal, he'd stretch her until she was ready. Give her time to adjust. If she wanted missionary or doggy or whatever the fuck, he'd make sure he gave it to her just the way she wanted. He'd give her the world if she asked-if he could afford it. Her body was a temple and he wanted to worship every single inch of it, from the silvery stretch marks where her butt cheek met her thigh, to her cute little pierced ears. Thinking on it, he wasn't sure how she even had stretch marks there. She was so thin. But puberty did weird shit to people's bodies-it definitely did to his.

Lily's breathing was even now. She was asleep. He laid there beside her, face buried against her neck, thinking about how to make their first night together the epitome of perfection. It was surely too romantic and cheesy probably, but he'd waited so damn long for her to be his and he meant it when he said he wanted to spoil her. Spoil, not _defile_. And again, the guilt came creeping forward.

He heaved a sigh, rolling away from her to lay on his back. His leg was hanging off the bed and onto the floor, toes curling around the carpet fibers. 'Lily Evans is it for me.' And she was. He imagined teaching her to ski in the Poconos with his family in Winter, his friends and her hanging out on the beach building sandcastles in Summer, taking her to gardens and joking about which flowers were prettier than her in Spring, and in Fall, he'd hold her close to keep her warm and they'd grill smores on his balcony firepit. And he wanted to marry her. The man in him wanted to see her fat with his children, god-she would glow. And he wanted to fight with her about shit like separating laundry colors or choosing which restaurant to eat at that night. Then they'd grow old together, they'd settle down in the 'burbs near here, and she'd be able to be close to the family she felt like she'd sacrificed for academia. Lily was smart enough to work anywhere she wanted, hell, he'd love if she worked with The Foundation. They'd travel together and christen every hotel room. Fuck, he was so mad for her.

But he had to be patient. Lily Evans wasn't damaged. She was just scared of losing people. And it killed him that he felt so entitled to her affection. Just because he'd waited so long didn't mean that she should be plowed on the bathroom floor. What was he, a fucking savage?

James ran a hand through his hair, messing it up with aggravation. ' _I don't deserve her love._ '

It was dark but she looked so beautiful while she slept. So fragile. Her skin was pale and it made her look like Snow White, but the freckles were creamy and dusted her haphazardly. Like imperfection. He adored them. Her hair, brows, and lashes were all the same glossy brass color. It reminded him of the copper pipes Sirius tried to build a bike frame from when they were 17. He loved her long hair. It was nostalgic and ethereal, like street-vendor candy floss from his visit to Singapore. A hand raised to play with her hair, absentmindedly twirling a strand. He leaned in to brush a kiss against her lips, inhaling the sigh she made as she shifted closer to him. Those lips were fucking divine. Plump and pink, like Instagram lip filler ads. Natural. Soft. His tongue was skimming her bottom lip now, tasting her sweet breath. How the fuck was he supposed to respect boundaries and take it slow when just smelling her made his dick as hard as a glacier?

He knew he put her up on a gilded pedestal as he sat prostrated, bowing to her and yearning to kiss her feet, suck on her toes, lick her milky inner thighs upward to plunge his tongue in her soaked pussy. 'Focus!', he scolded his wayward thoughts.

His eyes returned to her face, trying to stay away from that tantalizing mouth. Her nose was too cute, small and slightly upturned. It made her look innocent and young. He'd jerked off to so many redhead porn stars that he'd lost count, but he'd never seen a face like Lily's. A kiss was placed on the tip of her nose. He felt goosebumps raise on his arms as he remembered how she looked with her hot pink lips wrapped around his dick. Fuck. He wished he could look into her eyes right now, like he'd done when he came.

She had the most astounding green eyes he'd ever seen. They were always hidden behind bulky plastic frames of her glasses or squinted as she glared at him from across the hall, so he never honestly got a close look at them until too recently. But when he did. His dick was straining against his pants, uncomfortable against the inside of the zipper considering he had gone commando. It's not like he brought a suitcase when he'd decided to run after her. His fingertip traced her eyelashes. Green was his favorite fucking color. He remembered when he first got a look at her in contacts, up close. It was like a curse, shot straight to his heart and stopped it. Vibrant lime green with strands of foresty olives and the edges were dark, almost black. He'd asked Sirius to describe her eyes, because he couldn't find the right color green to call it.

"Pickle," Sirius had grunted, before returning to his laptop. They were _not pickle_.

James wanted to go hide in the bathroom and jerk off to relieve himself. But he wasn't a preteen needing to be embarrassed of his natural reaction to the gorgeous woman in his arms. Instead, he let the feeling mellow, pressing himself against her thigh and letting himself burn away until it faded. He would wait. He would give her what she wanted. And if she didn't know, he'd help her learn what it was until he could give her that too.

His eyes closed and he felt himself beginning to doze off, resolute in his promise of virtuous patience.

Tomorrow they would return to Manhattan and work things out. He'd even try dropping some hints about her golden boy, Snape. That was an entirely problematic situation that he didn't even want to contemplate right now. What a fucking long day. The age-gap dilemma aside, today was absolutely perfect. Any day spent with Lily Evans was. He was glad she let him be there for the graveyard visit. Her heart was open for him.

Tonight was for succumbing to her soft embrace and not for worrying about the future.

Tomorrow they could become mortals again and deal with the banalities of the Evans-Potter life.

Yes, he liked the sound of that.


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